A Dark Past
by StarLight9
Summary: Years ago a noble man made a grave mistake out of weakness. And now the King of Gondor and his friends and family must pay for the sins of another.
1. The Beginning of the End

_It has been a very, very long while, my friends, since I have started a long, multi-chapter story. Real life has kept me away from writing, but I have never stopped thinking of Middle-earth and our heroes. I doubt I will be as active as I once was, but this story at least should be updated regularly._

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_**A Dark Past**_

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**Summary:** Years ago a noble man made a grave mistake out of weakness. And now the King of Gondor and his friends and family must pay for the sins of another.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** As always, this story is written only for enjoyment. I do not own any of the marvelous canon characters, which is perhaps why they are still safe as sound.

**Note:** This story starts one year after the end of "The Only Way to Kill the Dragon". There will be some _very brief_ references to my older stories in the first two chapters. You do not have to read them first to understand this one and I do not ask you to; these are simply intended as nods to my long-time readers. I will make sure there is nothing confusing for newcomers.

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_**Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End**_

'Eldarion's birthday looks so different this year,' Legolas thought to himself as he scanned the guests' happy faces. Last year it had been a hard-won celebration after numerous trials and after barely surviving a dragon, shadows, Aragorn's own misguided stubbornness and what-not, while today the feast was following a year of peace and prosperity. Everything was going more than well – the woods of Ithilien were coming back to their former beauty, Gondor was rebuilding, and all traces of war and destruction had been more or less wiped away. But these past months had been even more blessed, Legolas thought with a smile as he gazed at one very special guest; one, who had not been present at Eldarion's last birthday.

Two-month-old Gilraen was asleep in the Queen's arms, and for that Legolas was grateful. The baby's incessant cries whenever she was awake were a torture to his sensitive hearing, and he briefly wondered if he had ever been this bad. His respect for his own parents greatly increased at the thought.

The sun had set long ago, but plates and glasses were full, the musicians were playing and singing, and everyone was merry. After a while Arwen stood up and announced that she and her son and daughter would retire for the night. Eldarion protested loudly, claiming that it was his birthday after all, and it was not fair if they went on celebrating without him. Unfortunately, the boy could not suppress a yawn at his words and there was no arguing with the Queen. As Eldarion passed by Legolas on the way out, he grinned at him and his companion.

"Are you coming with us tomorrow, Uncle Gimli?"

"I fear I have seen enough of horses these past days, laddie," the Dwarf said. "You go out riding without me. But please keep an eye on your father and the elf for me, will you? I always worry when I am not there to keep them out of trouble."

Eldarion laughed. "No worries, Uncle Gimli, I will return them both safe and sound!" The young Prince squeezed his friends' shoulders and followed his mother out of the door.

-:-

"What, no trying to escape the guards this time?" Legolas asked teasingly.

Aragorn slowly massaged his temples. "Not today, my friend, I fear I am not in the mood."

"Growing old, are we?" The elf was trying to sound light, but in truth the idea of his friends getting old had been a constant fear for some time. Worst of all was the uncertainly – he had no idea when old age would start to affect the King, whether it would be in decades or in mere years. He had seen men much younger than Aragorn succumb to age, but there was no other mortal man in whom the blood of Númenor ran so strongly, so there could be no comparison. He had tried not to think about it, not to count the new wrinkles and grey hairs he would notice every time he visited his human friend, but it was hard to push these thoughts completely out of his mind. "What is wrong?" His voice suddenly became worried as the man winced as if in pain.

"It is nothing, I simply wish we had postponed this trip for tomorrow, that is all. Urgh, the sun is so bright this morning!" Aragorn closed his eyes and angrily rubbed against his eyelids.

Legolas frowned, puzzled, but suddenly burst into laughter as all pieces came together to paint the full picture. "Wait until Gimli hears this!" He managed in between gasps. "The mighty King of Men defeated by a mere hangover!"

Aragorn glared at him indignantly. "You are wrong, Legolas, it is merely my guards that I think of. Yesterday was the Prince's eleventh birthday, the celebration lasted long and everyone overindulged. I do not feel it is right to force the poor men to accompany me in their condition."

"Oh, is that so? How very considerate of you!" The elf could not stop his body from shaking in mirth. "Then let us escape them and put them out of their misery!"

"Not today!" A firm voice from behind said, and the elf and man turned around to look at the young Prince. "I gave Uncle Gimli my word that I would return both of you in one piece, and I mean to keep it!"

The child's face was so solemn that Aragorn could not resist joining in his friend's laughter, much to Eldarion's dismay. But the careless sounds of mirth suddenly died down as Meril, Eldarion's mare, stood up on her hind legs and neighed in terror. With a cry, Eldarion fell to the ground, and Meril bolted and disappeared into the trees.

"Eldarion! Are you hurt?" Aragorn had jumped off his horse and was now running towards the fallen boy. But then he gasped in horror when he realized what had spooked the mare.

A bright green snake lay curled on the ground, staring menacingly at the boy. Where had it come from? Aragorn had never seen such snakes in these woods and did not recognize the kind, but the bright colour left no doubt that it was poisonous. Aragorn's heart hammered in panic – the creature could pounce at any moment! He would not reach his son in time! A quick look around told him that Legolas and the guards were trying to make their way to Eldarion as fast as they could, but it could not be fast enough. Aragorn felt the blood drain from his face and his knees go weak, but he kept on running. He had to reach his son, he had to!

Suddenly he stopped short in his tracks as a body flew down from the high branches. A young man landed gracefully right between Eldarion and the snake. There was a forked stick in his hand and he held it up. The reptile hissed at him and shot forward, but the young man was faster. With a move almost too swift to follow, he captured the snake's head with the stick's end. Before anyone could breathe a sigh of relief, he knelt down, grabbed a large stone and smashed the creature's head against the ground.

The guards had drawn out their swords at first, unsure if the newcomer posed any thread to the King and Prince, but they were all standing still now, staring in astonishment. And then the spell was broken and everyone started moving once again. Aragorn rushed to his son and the boy threw himself into his father's arms. Legolas approached and placed his hands on his friend's shoulders. "All is well now, Eldarion is safe. Eldarion is safe," he said softly, noting that Aragorn was shaking more than his son. "Is he badly hurt?"

"O-only my ankle," Eldarion answered instead of his father, his voice still unsteady. "Nothing serious."

Satisfied that his friends would be well, Legolas turned his attention towards their unexpected saviour. What he saw surprised him. The man seemed to be in his early twenties, of average height, dressed simply in travel-worn clothes. His pale freckled face was framed by fiery curls, which was very unusual for a Gondorian, and his features possessed a striking beauty that went much beyond the usual charm of youth. Legolas narrowed his eyes, for a moment wondering if an elf stood before him, but there was no doubt that the stranger was a man.

"You saved the Prince's life," the elf said. "You have our gratitude."

Aragorn had regained his composure by now and stood up, nodding at the boy. "What is your name, my young friend?"

"Algar, my liege," the young man mumbled, looking down.

"Gondor is in your debt, Algar. If not for your skills and bravery, I could have lost my son. Name any boon that I can grant, and you shall have it."

Algar blushed fiercely. "Sire, I need no other payment than the knowledge that the Prince is well. But we are facing more urgent matters now; your son is injured. Let me take you to my hut. I live with my twin sister. She is a healer and can help with his ankle."

"Thank you for the generous offer," said Aragorn. "Your kindness will not be forgotten. Lead the way."

Meril had returned cautiously, and she was given to Algar. Eldarion protested only briefly when his father held him and placed him on the horse in front of him. Even if the boy was unwilling to admit it, the ordeal had shaken him and he needed the comfort.

Legolas frowned thoughtfully as he replayed the recent events in his mind. "We were fortunate you were in that tree," he said, guiding his steed to fall in step with the young man's. "What were you doing there anyway?"

"I was collecting linden blossoms for my sister," Algar replied easily. "She uses them to make tea against the cold."

"And that stick of yours?" Legolas's puzzlement at the miraculous rescue had not abated. "Do you always carry it around?"

"Ah, that?" Algar grinned at his improvised weapon. "I take it whenever I need to pick anything from trees. It is useful in pulling the faraway branches closer. See – my home is over there!"

They could all see a small wooden house in the middle of a clearing. A girl was kneeling on the ground, tending the garden. At the sound of voices she looked up and gasped.

Wavy red hair was falling down her shoulders and her face was nearly a mirror image of her brother's. She stood up and hastily bowed.

"Yes, Frea, this is King Elessar," said Algar cheerfully, clearly amused by his sister's astonishment. "Now hurry up and help us, the Prince is in need of aid!"

Frea hurried forward and helped the boy dismount. "Welcome to our humble home, my Lord," she turned to Aragorn. "It is an honour to have to you here."

"The honour is mine, my lady," Aragorn said and gracefully slid down his horse.

The girl blushed. "Please, Sire, I am no lady."

"You are the lady of this house, and we are your guests here," the King countered. "Let us pay you the respect you deserve."

The siblings led the company inside. A cauldron of rabbit stew was boiling merrily over the fire, and soon Legolas and the guards received a bowl each. Aragorn declined the food, willing to see to his son's needs first.

When Frea was done setting and bandaging Eldarion's leg, she set out to prepare tea for the pain. Aragorn was observing her silently. "You have some skill in the healing arts," he remarked.

"It is no more than what we need to survive," the girl said, blushing once again.

"Frea," the King started, his voice low and solemn. "I have told your brother this already, and I will tell you now. We are in your debt. Ask anything of me, and I will grant it, as long as it is in my power."

The brother and sister exchanged a look, as if pondering the offer. "To be honest, there is one thing, Sire," Algar said, but seemed to reconsider and fell silent.

"Speak," Aragorn encouraged him. "Do not be afraid."

"You have done so much for Gondor, my Lord," Algar said. "You have driven the darkness away. You have done so much for all of us. It is us who are in your debt. Please allow us to be a part of the royal household, so that we could serve you every single day. I could work in your kitchens, or perform any other tasks you may see fit to ask of me. And Frea is a skilled healer, perhaps there will be need for one such as her."

Aragorn smiled. "My dear boy, you do not need to be a part of my household to serve me. In fact, you serve me much better every single day, by helping me rebuild this land. By tending your garden, by repairing your house, by healing the wounded, by taking your production to the market and sharing it with everyone. But if this is truly your wish, I shall grant it. But tell me this – are you willing to leave your home here? Will you not miss it?"

Algar and Frea shared an uneasy glance. "Our parents died in the war," the girl said at length. "This place has been empty for us ever since. In fact, Algar and I had been thinking about moving to the City for some time. We were afraid we might not find work, but now an opportunity presents itself."

"Very well." Aragorn nodded. "When will you be ready to move?"

"As soon as you are willing to have us," Algar replied readily.

"Then if you can to share a horse, you are welcome to ride back with us today. We will show you to your new accommodation and will introduce you to everyone you need to know. Tomorrow I will lend you a cart and horses and will send a few servants to help you with moving everything you need."

The brother and sister looked at each other, beaming. "Thank you, Sire!" Frea said. "We have been dreaming about this for a long time now, but we were afraid of the uncertainty. You have given us hope for the future!"

-:-

Once Algar and Frea were ready, the company set out back to Minas Tirith. The twins were riding Meril this time, while Eldarion was sharing a horse with his father. The child was secretly happy with the arrangement; his leg was hurting with a vengeance, but he would never admit it to anyone.

Aragorn was riding ahead at first, but a look back made him slow down until Legolas was level with him. "What troubles you, my friend?"

Legolas chuckled. "Whoever said something is troubling me? Oh, I see, your headache is better and you are back to being your usual sharp self and noticing the subtle hints around you."

Aragorn scolded at him. "As I said before, I never had a headache in the first place. It was my guards' comfort I was worried about. Now, will you please tell me what is bothering you? I do not see why you feel the need to hide from me."

"He is not hiding his troubles from you, _Ada_," Eldarion remarked wisely. "He is afraid to speak in front of me. He believes something is wrong and wants to shield me from the fears, which is of course ridiculous when you think about all the bad things I have already seen."

The King smiled sadly. "Forgive me, my son. You are right of course. The desire to shield you may come to us naturally, but the truth is you have already witnessed more than any boy your age has the right to see."

The child smiled triumphantly. "What _Ada_ is trying to say is, 'Legolas, tell _us_!'"

The elf sighed in defeat. "Very well, Aragorn, if you consider your son ready for such discussions, I will not question your judgement. I have been thinking about the snake."

"We were all afraid," Aragorn admitted, feeling Eldarion trying to suppress a shudder.

"No, it is not that. Something else has been troubling me. Have you ever seen a snake such as this?" Aragorn shook his head. "It is as I thought," the elf continued. "Snakes are not native to these woods. Someone must have brought it here."

"To what purpose?" The man questioned. "You cannot suggest that someone put the snake in the grass and hoped that Eldarion, or perhaps I myself, would stumble through there? Or are you saying someone is breeding the snakes and populating the forest with them to cause trouble? That would be too much work with little reward. Even if someone did bring the snake here, it is hard to believe that they had ill intent or that the incident would repeat."

"And what other intent can there be in bringing a poisonous snake!" Legolas argued.

Aragorn looked at the guards, who were throwing them curious glances. "Come to my study tomorrow morning. We shall talk about this then," he promised.

Soon the woods were left behind and the White City rose ahead. The gates at each level opened as the King and his party rode up. A small group was waiting to meet them.

"Uncle Gimli, look!" Eldarion cried. "I did bring them back safely, as promised! But I had to pay for it with many battle wounds." He proudly showed his bandaged foot.

Arwen's eyes widened at this and she turned an inquisitive glare at her husband. "Estel, I truly hope you have a good explanation for this."

"It was not his fault this time, Arwen, I swear," Legolas protested, and the Queen's gaze turned at him.

"Stay out of this, Legolas," she warned him, and the King smiled.

"Yes, that would be wise, my friend. Forgive me, I need to spend time with my family now, but I shall see you tomorrow. Please take Frea and Algar to Nestabess and ask her to show them around.

Legolas watched thoughtfully as the royal family disappeared inside. He hoped tomorrow would not be too late.

-:-

"I need to leave you alone for a few minutes, Berion. Will you be well?"

Berion looked uncertainly at the older man. They were supposed to share guard duty at the first city wall, but these were peaceful times and a single guard was more than enough. Only, Berion had joined the guards a little more than a month ago and was still feeling uncertain.

"Of course, all will be well," he replied proudly. "No need to hurry."

His companion smiled and patted him on the back before he walked away. Berion took in a deep breath of the fresh night air; the knowledge that now the safety of the City depended to a certain extend on him was making him lightheaded. It was exhilarating… and very much frightening.

He was concentrated on what was happening beyond the city walls, and not within them, which is why it took him a while to notice the presence of another. Berion whirled around as he heard the approaching steps. A hooded figure was walking purposefully towards the gate, and even though the young man was more concerned about intruders coming in, than people going out, a lone traveller at this hour was certainly suspicious.

"Halt!" he cried. "State your name and your business!"

The hood fell down revealing a fair face, framed by long, fiery curls. "My name is Frea. Forgive me, but I do not believe I know you. I am new to the City; I only moved here today. I work in the Houses of Healing now and was sent to gather herbs in the woods."

The young guard gaped at her. "You and your brother are the ones who saved Prince Eldarion's life! My lady, Gondor is in your debt!"

Frea smiled, "Thank you for the kind words, but they are undeserved. We did nothing more than anyone else would have done. But I have told you my name now, will you not tell me yours?"

"I am Berion," he mumbled, trying not to blush. "Forgive me, but why would you gather herbs in this hour?"

"Some herbs are best gathered under moonlight," the girl replied. "If you were a healer, you would know."

"Of course. But I cannot let you wander the woods alone in the darkness. Allow me to accompany you once my companion returns."

She laughed. "I have lived in these woods for many years; I will be safe."

Berion was not convinced. "I am not sure the King will be happy with me if he hears I had left his son's saviour all alone outside the city gates in the middle of the night."

"Who says the King needs to know?" Frea said sweetly and leaned forward, kissing the guard on the cheek. "Thank you, Berion."

Frea walked on, without giving him another chance to protest. Once she had disappeared into the trees, she gave out a shrill whistle. A moment later, a man appeared. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes and a stubbled, weather-beaten face.

"Frea, you are beaming like a lit torch," he said with a smirk. "Should I assume that the news is good?"

"More than good." The girl grinned back. "The King bought the entire story. Algar and I are well respected and trusted now and are allowed to move freely around the palace. He is truly a fool when his son's safety is concerned."

"The Days of the King are numbered then," the stranger said satisfied. "I admit I never doubted you, Frea, you are a sneaky little wench." He reached out and tried to put an arm around her waist.

The young woman angrily pushed his hand away. "Mind your manners! I was called 'my lady' twice today, and once by the King himself. I would have you show me the same respect."

The man laughed. "Come now Frea, we both know you are no lady!"

"No, I am not," she conceded. "Not yet." The smile crept back to her face. "But I will be, as soon as the rightful ruler is placed upon the throne. Send word to Captain Gulbrand. Tell him that the first part of our plan is accomplished. We are ready to move on."

**TBC**

_Next chapter coming soon! Reviews will be treasured!_


	2. Serpents in the House

_Many thanks to sidh, __Linda, __sarathestarkidranger and __the ticking clock for the supportive reviews! It feels amazing to be writing again and hearing back from readers after such a long time! Thank you!_

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_**Chapter 2: Serpents in the House**_

"Yes, it does sound like a tummy ache, poor thing," Frea said sympathetically, gently massaging the crying baby's belly in a circular motion. "I will prepare a tea of dill, fennel and chamomile. You must let it cool and give her five drops and then try to burp her whenever she feels discomfort."

Arwen turned a questioning look at Nestabess and the old woman nodded in approval. "I was unwilling to let the new healer see to the Princess before she has proven herself, but she insisted that she was here to serve the royal family, and I decided to give her a chance. I would have recommended the same treatment."

"Thank you both," the Queen said, holding little Gilraen in her arms and rocking her gently. "I would have normally asked my husband, but he is busy and I do not wish to bother him with every single worry I have."

"This is why we are here," said Frea eagerly. "As a mother, it is only natural that you should worry often, and I know it must be hard when your daughter is still so young and she cannot tell you what is wrong. Please call me whenever you feel that there is need."

The healers headed for the door, but Arwen stopped them. "Frea, wait! I never thanked you properly for what you and your brother did. Please, stay!"

Nestabess left, saying that she would prepare the tea, and Arwen asked the younger woman to take a seat.

"There is nothing to thanks us for, Your Majesty," Frea said modestly. "We did what each son and daughter of Gondor would have done."

"You are a daughter of Gondor then," Arwen said with a smile. "Forgive me, I was unsure because of your and your brother's northern names."

"You are very perceptive, my Lady. My mother was born in Dale. She was left an orphan at a young age and joined a company of traders, who travelled throughout Middle-earth. She met my father in Gondor and settled here with him. My brother and I were given northern names to honour our heritage, but we were raised here and our hearts belong to this land."

"Yes, you and your brother have proven this most bravely," the Queen praised her, and the girl blushed.

"It is a privilege to serve you and the King. But we must not keep the Princess in pain. I will go and check if the tea is ready."

As she walked out of the door, Frea could suppress her smile no longer. All this was too easy.

-:-

Legolas was about to knock, but to his surprise the door opened in his face and a smiling, red-haired man walked out. Algar nodded in greeting, but the elf was too troubled by his appearance here of all places to respond. Quietly, he entered the small study and closed the door behind him.

Aragorn was already seated behind his desk. The wooden surface was half-covered in letters and unsigned contracts, and the other half was taken by a large tray, laden with freshly-baked loaves of bread, cheese and apples. "Ah, Legolas, you arrive just in time. Please, sit!"

The elf seated himself, but a frown was marring his features. "What was Algar doing here?" he asked without preamble.

"Bringing me my food," said Aragorn, gesturing at the tray. "It is one of his new self-appointed duties. He volunteers for every task, as if he is trying to prove himself."

Legolas's frown only deepened and he quickly reached out to grab a piece of bread and cheese. Aragorn observed the move with a raised eyebrow. Naturally, he was planning to share the food with his friend, but it was uncharacteristic of the elf not to wait for an invitation. "You missed breakfast I take it," he remarked, smiling.

The elf blinked in confusion. "What? Oh- yes. Yes I did," he stammered embarrassed now, but wasted no time in finishing his bite. "You know why I am here," he said, somewhat regaining his composure.

Aragorn nodded. "I suppose you have some suspicions about what we discussed on the way. I thought it best if we talked about this in private."

"I could not agree more," the elf said. "It is about the snake, its appearance, and the sudden rescue. Do you not find it strange that Algar happened to be in the tree right above the snake? Or that he happened to have the perfect weapon for fighting snakes? Or that he knew exactly how to use it, even though he appears to be no warrior?"

"It is strange, I agree. I still cannot believe how fortunate we were. So much could have gone wrong."

"Fortunate?" the elf echoed in disbelief. "And how would you explain this fortune?"

Aragorn shrugged. "What would you have me say, my friend? The Valar watched over Eldarion yesterday. But you have another explanation I take it?"

Legolas hesitated. "It is much easier for me to believe that Algar was right above the snake because he _dropped_ it there. That he had this stick because he knew he would have to fight the serpent. And that he was so skilled because he had done this before; he had practiced to prepare."

"I see," Aragorn said slowly. "And what purpose would this serve? If Algar wishes us harm, he could have simply done nothing. He could have stood and waited for the snake to bite Eldarion. But he did not. He acted and he risked his own life to help my son."

"Perhaps he was after another prize," Legolas suggested. "Perhaps he wished to gain your trust. If so, then he certainly succeeded."

"This is all unfounded speculation. Do you have anything to support your theories?" Aragorn asked.

"Nothing solid," the elf admitted. "But the twins – there is something off about them. I do not know how to describe it, to be honest. It is simply that everything about them is too perfect – their devotion to you, their manners, their heart-wrenching backstory about parents lost in the war, their skills, their looks even-"

"Their _looks_?" Aragorn was incredulous. "If beauty is a sign of evil, should I send all of your kin to the dungeons?"

"This is not what I meant!" Legolas protested. "But their looks are unusual, and usual people tend to attract unusual events in their lives. I suspect that there is more to know about their past than what they have shared. And when you put everything together, they simply appear too good to be true. It is not a good argument, I know-"

"No, it is not," the man interrupted sternly. "Legolas, you know that I highly value your opinion, but Algar saved my son's life. I will not have you badmouth him. Next time you have anything to say against him, you better have a stronger argument than "he is too good to be true"."

The elf bowed his head. "I was afraid you would say that. But I beg you, heed my warning and keep an eye on the twins! For starters, I am not comfortable with Algar handling your food. Even if I had nothing against him, everyone working in the kitchens had been known to us for many years. It seems unwise to give such trust to someone you have only met yesterday."

Aragorn was about to retort, but as a sudden realization struck him, he froze and all blood drained from his face. "Legolas. You did not. Please… I beg you, tell me you did not."

It was Legolas's turn to pale and he closed his eyes, unable to face his friend's searching gaze. But to the man, this was enough of an answer.

"You… you took that bread and cheese so fast not because you were starving as I first assumed, but because you wanted to taste my food for poison! Legolas… _What_ were you thinking?"

"You know very well what I was thinking," said Legolas, defeated.

Aragorn bowed forward, burying his head in his hands. "Leave me. I have no patience for this now."

"Aragorn-"

"Leave me, I said."

The elf hesitated briefly, but stood up and exited the room. He closed the door behind him and sighed in despair – he had only made this worse.

-:-

Frea walked down the market street until she reached the heavy doors of a rather dubious tavern. She hesitated briefly, but then took a deep breath and entered. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a dark-haired boy, no older than sixteen, laughing merrily and holding a large tankard of ale in his hand. Two scarcely clothed tavern wenches were sitting on his knees, giggling like fools. Frea eyed the girls in distaste and a wave of sadness washed over her heart as she thought how once her mother had been reduced to this behaviour to make her living. But no, there was no room for comparison. Her mother had possessed enough brains and ambition to escape this life and give herself and her children a better future. A _much_ better future, if all went according to plan.

She walked to the boy and glared at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Frea!" The boy cried cheerfully. "I had not thought to meet you at a place like this!"

"And I had expected to find you exactly at a place like this, Edric," the young woman answered coldly. "Leave us!" she hissed at the two girls.

"But this good mister promised us a night to remember," one of them protested, never stopping with her irritating giggles.

Frea took out a purse and handed each girl a coin. "I said, _leave us_."

Edric sighed overdramatically. "You have always been like this. Always spoiling the fun."

The young woman frowned. "Mother sent you to Minas Tirith to learn, not to waste your time and your gold in the tavern."

"Let me share a secret with you." The boy winked. "There is no better place to learn everything you need to know about life than the sleaziest inn." He raised his hand to call a serving girl, but Frea grabbed it mid-air and pulled him closer.

"This is hardly an appropriate behaviour for the future Steward of Gondor!" she hissed in his face.

Edric laughed. "See, this is what you can never understand, no matter how many times I keep telling you. It is Mother who wishes that future for me. Believe me, I have no desire to rule."

"How can you be so selfish! We are working so hard to put you on the throne, and you refuse to do this small thing, for your family!"

"Ah, and you ask for nothing in return I imagine? Except for noble titles and enough fortune to live in luxury until the end of your days?"

Frea did not flinch. "It is a small price to pay for all we are doing for you and all the risks we are putting ourselves through. Besides, it will be inappropriate for the ruling Steward's family to live like commoners. Come on, Edric, this is your destiny! You are the rightful ruler of Gondor!"

"Am I?" The boy challenged. "I was under the impression that King Elessar has a stronger claim. As does his son and his newly born daughter. And Faramir and his son for that matter."

Frea was silent for a second. "Not if they are all dead," she said softly. "Everything is in place and we are ready to act, but we cannot do this without you."

Edric laughed again. "See, sister, we should call things by their real names. I am _not_ the rightful ruler of this land. You, however, are ready to wipe out everyone who stands before me and put me on the throne for your, and Mother's, own ends."

"So be it," Frea admitted. "And what of it? We have no choice, Edric, we are bereft of the income that is rightfully ours! Mother has tried to talk to that fool Faramir so many times, and he refuses to listen to her! He calls her a liar! Our savings from before the war are almost gone."

"But you have found good work at the Houses of Healing now I hear," Edric said. "The pay should be decent."

"We deserve much more than decent. And even if I have a good pay, how will you provide for yourself? These inns and ales and girls of yours do not pay for themselves."

"I was hoping to live off on your income, to be honest," Edric said with a grin. "It is only fair, after all, so many years we have lived off the money we have thanks to me."

Frea resisted the urge to slap him and fisted her hand instead. "This is no time for jokes, little brother. Are you with us or not?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. If you get everything done, I will play my part. But do not expect any help from me along the way."

Frea sighed. "I never did. But thank you, Edric, this is good enough."

She turned around and breathed a sigh of relief when the reeking inn was behind her. Frea swiftly walked up to the second level and passed by the market street. Many artisans and traders had come out to share their goods. They were all eagerly praising the quality of what they had to offer, which made it nearly impossible to distinguish a single voice among all the racket.

"Scarves, scarves made of the finest southern silk!" A very short and thin man was shouting, jumping nimbly around like a rabbit. "A scarf for this beautiful lady?" He hopped in front of Frea, thrusting a piece of cloth into her face.

The girl smiled. "I would love a scarf indeed. Do you have green ones?"

"Green to compliment your red hair!" the short man cried happily. "Of course I have! Come, come inside my cart! I have just what you are looking for!"

Frea went inside and raised an eyebrow at the man. "Is _that_ was you call 'staying inconspicuous', Jarl!"

The man grinned impishly. "I thought that staying in plain sight is the easiest way to hide. Seems to be working well."

"How many men have you got in the City?"

"Thirty so far," Jarl replied. "Captain Gulbrand sent fifty, but we cannot get them all in at once. More are coming."

"Good," Frea said. "We still have some time to prepare. I found out that Faramir and his family are arriving here tomorrow. We need to take everyone down at once, otherwise they will grow suspicious and more cautious when someone disappears. Remember, we need the King, the Queen, the Prince and Princess, Faramir and his son. We need the King alive to recognize our claim; as for the rest, it is good to have as many of them alive at first to use them as a bargaining coin against the King, but if it is too much trouble, do not hesitate to kill."

Jarl frowned. "And _you_ remember that Captain Gulbrand wants the King and Prince dead."

"I know, I know. He will have their heads once this is over. Of course, we will not keep any of the promises we make to the King. They all need to die; we cannot risk any of them returning and disputing our claim."

Jarl's frown deepened. "Frea," he whispered urgently. "I think we have a problem." He leaned forward and spoke softly close to her ear.

Frea nodded. "Well then. Let us solve it before it has grown out of control."

-:-

The great hall was full and all tables were laden. The King could often enjoy privacy during his morning and noon meals, but was expected to occasionally share dinner with the other nobles. Legolas wondered when he would have another chance to speak to his friend, and if this was a good idea at all in the man's current state of mind. He gazed forlornly at the head of the table where Aragorn was seated. The Queen's and Prince's seats next to him were empty. Arwen had retired early to care for her young daughter, and Eldarion missed no opportunity to play with his little sister. The King, however, could not afford the freedom to be with his family whenever he liked. Legolas sighed tiredly; his last talk with his friend bothered him, and he did not wish to leave matters at that. His own seat was close to the head of the table, but not close enough for a private conversation.

Gimli's absence also added to his foul mood. The Dwarf was travelling to Erebor on the morrow, and he was planning to pass through Edoras on the way North. He had excused himself from dinner, saying that he would walk through the market and look for presents for Éomer and Lothíriel. Legolas was glad that his friend would have the opportunity to visit his kin, but at the moment he needed support and the empty seat next to him dampened his spirits greatly.

To everyone's surprise, the King suddenly stood up. All fell silent, expecting a speech, but instead Aragorn left his place at the head of the table and headed down along the aisle, until he reached Gimli's empty seat. With a smile at the elf, Aragorn sat down.

Some of the guest exchanged nervous whispers and a servant hurried to bring the King his meal at his new seat. Aragorn continued to eat calmly, as if nothing had happened, and Legolas watched him under raised eyebrows.

"Is there a reason for your little evening walk, apart from causing an outrage among your subjects?" he asked.

Aragorn took his time finishing the bite and turned at the elf. "I wanted to talk to you. I was harsh with you earlier today," he said. "Forgive me."

Legolas smiled warmly. "I have forgiven you already."

It was Aragorn's turn now to stare in anticipation as his friend lazily went on with his food. At the end, the man cleared his throat. Legolas raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I believe it is your turn now," Aragorn prompted.

"My turn?"

"Yes. Your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"To apologize, of course!" said Aragorn, exasperated. "This is how it works. I apologize, then you apologize."

"Oh, does it?" Legolas laughed. "This must be some human custom I am unfamiliar with. Tell me, what should I apologize for?"

"Legolas!"

"Peace, peace, Estel," the elf could no longer contain his mirth. "I was only teasing. I understand very well why you reacted the way you did. I did not mean to upset you. I am sorry."

"Upset me?" Aragorn repeated in disbelief. "_Upset_ me? Legolas, do you not remember the promise I had forced upon you last year?"

The elf's gaze darkened immediately. "How could I ever forget?"

"I made you promise me that you would sail to the Undying Lands," Aragorn continued softly. "Because I had seen how I could unwittingly cause your death, and that knowledge terrified me. I released you from your promise because I realized that the decision was yours, and not mine. But the knowledge of what might have been never went away, and nor did the fear. The fear that I may one day be the cause of your death has been with me ever since that day, and what do you do to ease my troubles? You taste my food, which you believe to be poisonous! I never thought it might be; I have never doubted Algar, but this is not what you believed. You believed there was real danger and you chose to take it. Tell me, Legolas, if the food was indeed poisonous and you had died instead of me, do you truly believe you would be doing me a favour? Do you not think I would have been more than a little _upset_?"

Legolas sighed. "I am sorry. I did not think much I suppose, I was acting instinctively."

"This makes it even worse," said Aragorn. "If your instincts tell you to put your life in danger like that, it does little to soothe my fears. At times such as this I almost regret I released you from the promise."

"What do you ask of me then?" asked Legolas. "You know that I cannot say I will stop trying to protect you because that would be a lie. But if it will make your heart lighter, I can promise that I will look after myself as well."

"Thank you," the man said, finally allowing himself a smile. "This is a start."

As he spoke, Algar approached them and placed a plate of green grapes in front of the King. Aragorn noticed the elf steal a quick glance at the fruit and his eyes widened. "Do not even think about it!" He said. Slowly and deliberately, the man grabbed a grape and brought it to his lips, his challenging gaze never leaving his friend's.

"See? I eat it and I am alive. You should understand this once and for all – if Frea and Algar wished to harm any of us, they had plenty of opportunities and used none of them. They mean no harm. I trust them completely, and so should you."

Legolas sighed in defeat. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should give them a chance."

"I know that your doubts are born of your desire to protect me and my family, and I do not hold them against you," said Aragorn. "But it would make me glad if you could keep your heart open and trusting. I know that while you lived in your father's halls, you rarely had any contact with mortal men. And even though this has changed in the recent years, you still seem to have trouble believing that there are many men who possess goodness and bravery and honour. Algar is such a man. He saved Eldarion's life even though he could not know if he would survive the encounter himself. And he asked for nothing in return. I only wish you could see that and could give him your friendship the way you gave it to me years ago."

"I could not give _anyone_ my friendship the way I gave it to you," the elf replied without thinking and the man smiled.

"Although it warms my heart to hear it, I fear this is what I mean when I say you need to keep an open heart. You never know when a good friend might come along, and you will miss him if you are not looking."

"And it gladdens me that you have remained so trusting after all the dangers you have been through and all the treachery you have seen," Legolas said. "But you must know that as a King you have many enemies who may wish you ill for reasons you can never suspect." A sudden smile lit up the elf's features. "And as a King you must also know that everyone in this hall expects you to return to your high seat at the head of the table."

Aragorn eyed his usual seat unhappily. "It feels lonely up there, especially when Arwen is missing," he admitted. "Perhaps tomorrow I will return. But tonight- tonight I believe I will stay here."

-:-

When Legolas retired for the night, his heart was lighter. Aragorn was right, he had no solid evidence. The only reason he had any doubts was that everything in the twins' story fitted too perfectly, which could of course be a coincidence.

The elf entered his room and headed for the wardrobe, but he had barely closed the door when it burst open once again and a very agitated dwarf stormed inside.

"Legolas! You were right! The girl! She is a traitor! She has accomplices! They mean to kill Aragorn, and Arwen, and the children, and everyone!"

The elf, alert at once, grabbed his friend's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "Calm yourself, Gimli. When are they going to strike? Now?"

"No, no, tomorrow or later, after Faramir arrives," Gimli said, feeling his racing heart gradually slowing down.

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. We have time to stop them then. Now tell me all that happened."

"I was at the market, looking for presents for Éomer and Lothíriel," Gimli explained. "And then I saw the girl following some man inside the closed cart where he was keeping his goods. I remembered you had some suspicions about her and her brother, so I followed. They have many men inside the City gates already-"

It was a split second before Gimli suddenly stopped talking and keeled over when Legolas felt that something was wrong. He made a dive for his weapons, but had barely grabbed his knives' handles when he felt the world going strangely dim around him. His hand shot to his neck and he stared with detached curiosity at the strange dart he had pulled out.

And then, a terrorful thought struck him. If Gimli and he were captured or killed now, Aragorn would not find out about the treachery before it was too late. "Guards!" he cried out with the last of his strength, before collapsing on the hard floor.

Jarl stood over the lifeless bodies, holding a thin blowtube in his hand. "This was well done," Frea praised him, but the man was not satisfied.

"The elf cried out," he said. "What if someone has heard?"

As if in an answer to his fears, hurried footsteps in their direction echoed down the corridor. "Guards!" Frea called at the top of her lungs. "Guards! Help!"

"What are you doing?" Jarl whispered in horror. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Stay in the room and make no sound," Frea hissed and went out in the corridor, closing the door behind her.

Berion and another guard whom she did not know appeared running from around the corner. "Berion! Help!" She cried once again. "There was an intruder. Lord Legolas went after him. I think he stole something from Lord Legolas' room. They went that way."

Berion slowed down. "Thank you, Frea. Do you need someone to escort you back to your room? It may be dangerous if there is a burglar running loose."

"Thank you, but you should help Lord Legolas now. I think the burglar was trying to escape and will cause no more trouble."

Berion and the other guard thanked her once again and ran down the corridor. Frea returned back to the room. "I will go and check if Cenred and his men have run into trouble," she said and left Jarl to keep an eye on their unconscious prisoners.

The young woman walked outside the palace and headed towards the gate between the sixth and seven level. When she passed by the White Tree, she gave it a thoughtful look over her shoulder. Would the tree still bloom under Edric's rule? She doubted it; it had never bloomed for the Stewards after all. She was surprised by the sadness she felt at the thought, but reminded herself not to be ridiculous. People would die. A lot of people, children included. What was the death of one tree?

As she expected, there were four men carrying a large palanquin, waiting at the gate. There was no passenger in the litter; instead, it was laden with silken scarves, dresses and tunics. The palanquin was left on the paved street and two guards were questioning the strangers.

"Anudaer! Taenor!" She called at the guards in greeting, and they immediately turned to look at her, smiling brightly. "It gladdens my heart to see how well you are protecting us all, but you have no need to fear. I invited these good men here."

"You invited them, Frea?" Taenor's gaze at the newcomers softened.

"They are to present their goods to Lord Gimli," the girl explained. "He wishes to bring presents to the King and Queen of Rohan, but has not enough time to walk through the market and look at everything. He asked me to find the highest quality goods and bring them to him to choose from."

"Then we must not keep him waiting," Taenor said. "I hope he will forgive us for delaying these men."

"I shall not tell him you delayed them," Frea said with a smile, and the men nodded gratefully.

The young woman led the small company towards the palace, giving the same explanation to everyone they passed by. "You have been here for a day and a half," one of the men remarked. "How do you know the guards already?"

"Of course my first work here was to meet the guards and gain their trust," Frea said impatiently. "Cenred, I believe it should be obvious to you by now that your Captain could never have accomplished this without us."

"My Captain is not complaining as long as he gets what was promised," the man said.

They had reached the door to Legolas's room and Frea knocked softly. "Jarl, it is us," she whispered and heard a key turning before the short man opened the door.

"Lay them on the litter and cover them well with silks," Frea instructed.

Cenred held a knife to the oblivious elf's throat. "Do you want them dead or alive? These two were not a part of the plan."

"Alive," Frea replied quickly. "They are close to the King. We should keep everyone we can use to put a little pressure on him. Take their weapons as well; we want to make it seem as if they left. Wait!" she called sharply and snatched one of Legolas's twin knives out of Jarl's hand. She walked to the elf and with a swift move cut one of the slender braids framing the elf's fair face and placed it inside a secure pocket. "Might turn out to be useful," she said simply in reply to the questioning stares.

Jarl was not happy. "How will the King and everyone else believe that these two have left without saying a word to anyone? The dwarf was expected to leave, yes, but not the elf."

"I can make them believe whatever I want," Frea replied confidently.

"For how long?" Jarl challenged. "This cannot go on forever. They will figure it out sooner or later."

"Yes, they will," Frea said with a smile. "And this is why we must give them no time to figure it out. This is why we must strike tomorrow."

* * *

**TBC**

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	3. The Serpent Bites

_Many thanks to everyone who reviewed!_

* * *

_**Chapter 3: The Serpent Bites**_

Frea walked into the kitchens and smiled at her brother. Algar's sleeves were rolled up and he was covered in flour, kneading dough.

"Good morning, brother! Do you have a minute?" She was speaking loudly enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear. "We need to speak to the King about that cart and boxes he promised to lend us."

"I will come later, Frea," the boy said. "Right now I am making something special for Lord Legolas's breakfast. I have heard a thing or two about elvish food. It will remind him of home I hope."

"Ah, you have not heard the news then? Lord Legolas left early this morning." Several heads turned at her, surprised at the new information. "Raeniel told me he left together with Lord Gimli. He does not plan to be gone for long; he only means to travel to Rohan and then come back. Perhaps you can surprise him with your breakfast once he returns. Still, you should not leave your work unfinished. Come to me when you are done. But please, clean up first. You cannot meet the King covered in flour."

Frea left the kitchens and went back to Legolas's room. She paced back and forth in front of it until a raven-haired maid appeared, carrying a pot of streaming water and towels.

"Raeniel, how fortunate I am to meet you here!" she greeted with a smile. "Could you show me where I can find fresh linen? Nestabess sent me to fetch some for the beds in the Houses of Healing, but I do not know where to find it."

"Of course, Frea, I will be happy to help, but I need to bring Lord Legolas hot water for his morning bath. Wait for me here, I will be back in a minute."

"Oh, you have not heard then?" Frea asked surprised.

"Heard what?"

"I heard Maedess and Laebril talking that he left together with Lord Gimli early this morning. He will need no bath water today."

-:-

"Thank you, Aeneth," Aragorn nodded at the maid who had brought breakfast for him and his family. He knew that she was in charge of Gimli's room and hoped that she would know more about the Dwarf's plans. "Tell me, do you know when Lord Gimli intends to leave today? Will he be here for lunch?"

The girl froze, surprised. "My lord, I thought you knew!"

Aragorn frowned, a dark foreboding creeping slowly into his heart. "Knew? What am I supposed to know?"

"Lord Gimli left already together with Lord Legolas."

"What!" Aragorn stood up. He exchanged a glance with Arwen, but saw his own shock reflected in her eyes. "He would not leave without saying a word to anyone."

"He told Candiel… or Liriasell… or both, I am not certain. He intends to ride with Lord Gimli only until Edoras and then come back. He will not be gone for long."

This did little to dissuade Aragorn's dark premonitions. "Aeneth, I need you to listen to me very carefully. You must trace the source of these rumours and find out who has heard this from Legolas directly. Bring them to me. Also, find out at what time they left and who was on guard duty then. Bring the guards to me as well."

Aeneth nodded, frightened by the King's urgency, and meant to leave, but just then she remembered something and came back. "My lord, I almost forgot! Prince Faramir and his party we sighted approaching the City."

-:-

Aragorn watched the arrival of the Steward's company in stunned surprise. "My friend!" he rushed forward to embrace Faramir. "When were you planning to tell me the good news?" He turned to Éowyn, who had dismounted as gracefully as ever, refusing the help of all the men who had rushed to assist her. "My lady, if I had known of your condition, I would not have made you ride all the way here."

She laughed. "My _condition_, my lord? You speak as if it is a disease. And why would a short ride scare me? I am a woman of Rohan, I have learned how to ride before I knew how to walk." She gently placed a hand over the swollen belly. "I am hoping for a girl this time. Elboron was a handful; I am not sure I will have the strength to live through that again."

Arwen laughed. "And what makes you think that a girl is any easier?"

Éowyn's face brightened as her eyes took in the sleeping baby in Arwen's arms. "She is a beauty, my lady!" she said, and Arwen allowed her to hold the little Princess. "It was a lovely idea to name her after Lord Aragorn's mother," she added softly.

Arwen smiled. "I know, it warmed his heart when I suggested it. He promised that we will name our next daughter after my mother. We both wish our mothers could see their grandchildren and it pains us that they never will, but this is a small comfort."

"I understand," Éowyn said. "It saddens me that Elboron will never know my parents. Or my uncle. We have all lost much, but this is now behind us. Lord Aragorn has brought an age of peace and safety. The times when we needed to fear that our loved ones will be cruelly snatched away from us before their time are behind us and will never return."

-:-

"A scarf for the beautiful lady?"

"Oh, stop that!" Frea irritatedly pushed Jarl's hand away. "No one is looking at us anyway."

The man's eyes narrowed; only now he noticed how pale and distraught she appeared. "Is something wrong?"

"Change of plan," Frea said softly. "We need to get rid of Lady Éowyn as well. There is another heir on the way."

Jarl laughed. "Oh please. Do not tell me you are having second thoughts about killing a pregnant woman. You have no qualms about murdering an infant."

"It has to be done," the girl said curtly, but her voice shook.

"Frea?"

She sighed. "This was not planned, that is all. I despise Faramir, and I care not about his son or about the King and his family. But Lady Éowyn… she tried to help Mother. She _did_ help her, even when Faramir refused. She is the only one who has treated us with respect and compassion because of who we truly are and not because of who we pretend to be. But it matters not. As I said, it must be done."

-:-

"It has been too long my friend!" Aragorn said with a smile. "You need to visit more often; Ithilien is not so far away."

"It is true, but the work is demanding. I have to stay home especially when Legolas is away."

Aragorn's face darkened at the mention at the elf, but he smiled again when someone knocked on the door. "Ah. That would be the wine. Come in, Algar!"

The boy entered, carrying a plate of wine, fruits and cheeses. He put it on the table and bowed to the King."

"Thank you, Algar. You were very quick."

"It is a pleasure to serve you, my Lord," the boy said and left the room.

Aragorn turned back at Faramir, only now noticing that his Steward had gone pale as a sheet and was staring wide-eyed at the door.

"Faramir, are you well?"

"Yes, yes, my Lord, I am well," he stammered, forcing a smile.

Aragorn was not easily deceived. "What is wrong? You look as if you have seen a ghost."

"I am merely tired from the road. Nothing a glass of wine cannot heal."

"Faramir." Aragorn looked him in the eyes. "Have you met Algar before?"

"No," Faramir replied, a little too quickly. "No, I have not, honestly. He reminded me of someone, that is all."

"Of whom?" Aragorn demanded.

"It matters not," Faramir said firmly, indicating that this conversation was over. "Tell me, how did Eldarion's birthday celebration go? Did I miss much?"

-:-

After his talk with Aragorn, Faramir nearly sprinted back to his suites. He stormed inside, hoping to find Éowyn, but she was not there. With a heavy sigh, he started pacing from one end of the room to the other.

He was still pacing when his wife arrived. The smile gracing Éowyn's face quickly disappeared, replaced by a worried frown. "Faramir? What is wrong?"

He looked up and his face was pale. "Aragorn has a servant boy who looks very much like Tyra."

Éowyn was taken aback. "So what?"

"_So what_? What if he is her son? She does have other children, does she not?"

"Besides Edric you mean? Yes, she has a boy and a girl, twins, older than him."

"It is her son, I am certain. I am certain of it." Faramir was still pacing. "I do not like this. What is he doing in Minas Tirith?"

"It is not so strange, is it? The boy has no father; he needs to work to make a living. He found work here."

Faramir scratched his cheek nervously. "No, something is wrong. I do not like seeing him here."

"You do not like seeing him anywhere," Éowyn said sadly. "The boy has done you no wrong."

"His mother is the one who chose to make an enemy of me."

"Oh, did she? As far as I remember, she came in peace and asked for no more than what you could have easily given."

Faramir looked at her pleadingly. "Éowyn… I do not wish to go over this again. You know how much this affair pained me. I need your support in this."

"You have it, my love," she said, hugging him reassuringly. "You have it. Always. But if you are so worried, maybe you should tell Aragorn about this."

He shook his head. "I cannot. You know why I cannot."

-:-

"Why are you so gloomy, my Captain?" Tyra whispered into her lover's ear. "I thought the news would cheer you up."

Captain Gulbrand frowned. "Nothing will cheer me up until I see the King's and Prince's heads stuck on spears in front of my gates! Your son should have left the boy die."

"Patience, my brave lord," Tyra said with a smile. "They will both die, I promise you. But we need to be patient. The King's and Prince's deaths will be easy. Very easy. What is much harder is to place the rightful ruler on the throne."

Gulbrand snorted. "The rightful ruler! I could not care less if that wretched land is ruled by the rightful heir or his grandma! All I want is the promised prize and revenge for my brother."

Tyra's face assumed a sad expression. "Ah yes, we all mourn Dargmor's death."

The man frowned at her. "Spare me the farce. You mourn nothing apart from your lost income."

"It may be so," she admitted, undeterred. "But Umbar can never receive Southern Gondor as a gift unless my son sits on the throne. One Steward's decree will achieve what years of wars and hundreds of lost lives have not done."

Gulbrand could not argue with that. And yet, he hated it that his plans depended so much on this woman's whims. He knew well that he could not trust a word she said. She was dangerous, as dangerous as the venomous snakes she was breeding.

And still, he was willing to walk headfirst into the danger. There was something about Tyra that did not allow him to step aside and say no. He gazed at her appreciatively. Every twenty-year-old girl was beautiful in her own way, but very few managed to retain this beauty as the years passed. And yet, the ones who did keep it possessed a kind of mature appeal that no young girl could ever offer. And yes, Tyra had kept her beauty, and how! He knew very well that she used a strange plant from the east to hide the silver streaks in her fiery hair and salves and powders to hide the fine lines of laughter and sadness decorating her eyes, but it matter not to him. There was an inner light in her that shone no less brightly as the years went by. And it was not only her looks – her movements, her sensual voice, everything made Gulbrand want to grab her and make her his.

Before she had come, he had kept a harem of twenty-year-old girls. Then Tyra had told him that if he wanted her, he needed to dismiss them all and never ask for them again. He had gladly done so and had not regretted it.

"Are you with me in this?" she asked.

The Captain of Umbar opened his mouth to reply, but he knew he did not have a choice. He never had.

"I am. I will place your son on the throne of Gondor."

-:-

"Guards!" he yelled, frantic to alert the castle of the danger. He had to shout out, to raise the alarm before he fell asleep.

Strangely, his mind did not seem to grow more sluggish by the minute as he had feared. On the contrary. And then, Legolas realized the terrifying truth. He was not falling asleep. He was waking up.

What had happened? Had he succeeded in alerting the guards? A look around made his heart sink – he was lying on the floor of Frea and Algar's hut in the woods. The twins had gotten away, which meant that Aragorn was still unaware of the treachery.

His head shot up and his heart hammered wildly inside his chest as he remembered Gimli's words. The twins were planning to strike after Faramir arrived, and the Steward was due to arrive tomorrow.

Tomorrow… how long had he been asleep? He could see light through the window, so at least a day had passed. But what if he had been out for two days, or three? What if… what if it was all over?

With a sob, Legolas let his head fall back down. "I am sorry. I am so sorry," he whispered, as his eyes filled with tears. He tried to brush them away, but his hands were tied uncomfortably behind his back. The feel of rough rope against his skin as he tried to move them brought him back to reality. He could not despair, not now when his friends needed him! The elf closed his eyes, breathing deeply. If Aragorn was dead, he would know it, he assured himself. Whether there was any real logic in that thought he did not know, but it gave him strength.

When Legolas opened his eyes again, his mind was clearer and he could better take in his surroundings and access the situation. He was bound, but mostly unhurt, apart from a painful bump on his head and a few bruises from falling on the hard floor. Several strands of hair tickled his temple, and much to his annoyance he was unable to brush them aside. Gimli was lying not far from him, unconscious. The Dwarf did not respond to his calls, which worried him at first. Legolas closed his eyes and concentrated, until he could hear his friend's steady breathing and heartbeat and sighed in relief; Gimli was merely sleeping.

Perhaps the drug had affected them differently. A ray of hope suddenly shone in Legolas's heart – perhaps his elven blood had helped him awake sooner than expected. Maybe the twins had thought he would be asleep for longer and had not taken enough precautions to prevent his escape.

His spirits lifted, Legolas tested his bonds once again. They were firm enough and he could not simply break them or wriggle free, but only his hands and feet were bound, which allowed him some movement. He was even able to slowly crawl on the floor, but it put a strain on him and he paused and looked around, hoping to devise a better escape plan.

He needed to cut his bonds; there was no other way. Legolas looked around, hoping to find something sharp, anything, but his search was futile. At the end, a small cupboard attracted his attention. If the twins kept their dishes and cutlery there, perhaps he would be able to find a kitchen knife.

Slowly but determinedly, Legolas crawled towards the cupboard. He used his shoulder to open it and sighed in frustration as he noticed a bowl filled with kitchen utensils on the third shelf. He could not reach that high, but at least now he knew what he was aiming at. With a quick move, Legolas shoved his neck and shoulder against the cupboard. The bowl shook with a pleasant ring that raised the elf's hopes. Legolas threw himself against the wood again and again until his back hurt and until spoons and forks spilled over his head. Delighted, Legolas saw that there was a knife among them.

The knife was too blunt for his liking, but it took him only a short time to cut his bonds. Once he was free, Legolas immediately rushed to Gimli's side. His friend seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but all attempts to awaken him failed.

Legolas stood up and stretched his limbs. He needed to think. Irritated, he ran a hand through his hair, aiming to brush away the hairs tickling him, but stopped, frozen in surprise. He ran his hand through his hair again and then his fingertips closed around the ends of the very, very short strands next to his temple. Someone had cut one of his braids. The elf shuddered involuntarily – what else had happened while he had been asleep?

But there was no time to ponder this. He had to get to Minas Tirith and warn Aragorn about the danger. He was far away from the city; a journey on foot would take a couple of hours, even longer if he had to carry Gimli.

Ah yes, Gimli. If he took his friend, there was no way he would make it to Minas Tirith before nightfall, and he would most likely be too late to warn Aragorn of the danger. And yet, he could not simply leave the dwarf here; who knew when the twins would return. Was he supposed to choose between one friend and the other?

At the end, he made up his mind and looked around the room for weapons. He saw nothing of use and did not want to spare the time for a more thorough search, so he tucked the blunt kitchen knife into his belt, lifted Gimli in his arms, and walked to the door.

-:-

"Come in!" Aragorn called and his face brightened when Éowyn entered. "Thank you for coming, my lady! Please, sit." He gestured at various bowls of fruits and nuts on his desk. "I brought these for you, in case you feel hunger while we talk. I remember how Arwen was when she was with child."

Éowyn laughed. "This is very thoughtful of you, my lord. I should expect a long talk then?"

"This depends on how much you are willing to tell me. There is something that bothers me, and I believe you may be able to help."

"Anything," Éowyn replied readily.

"I have a new servant boy, Algar," Aragorn said. "He has fiery red curly hair. He has told me his life story and I never had a reason to doubt him, but today something strange happened. Faramir saw Algar and acted as if he knew him, but he refuses to speak to me. This is very unusual. Faramir has grown to trust me in the past years and never hesitates to share his troubles with me, but now I can sense that he is hiding something. Do you know anything about this?"

Éowyn hesitated. "Yes, he is hiding something," she admitted. "But I ask you not to press him. You do not need to concern yourself over this. It is a personal matter. What he knows poses no threat to you or to Gondor. I know Faramir's reasons to keep this a secret, and they are valid."

Aragorn slowly massaged his temples as he collected his thoughts. "Éowyn, I will be honest with you. You say that Algar is no threat, and with all my heart I wish to believe that. But the truth is, we met him and his sister under quite unusual circumstances. Legolas has been suspicious of them ever since. I dismissed his doubts at first, but now he and Gimli have disappeared. The servants tell me they have both left to visit your brother, but it is unlike them not to say a word. I know I should not worry, they are strong and capable and can take care of themselves, but I cannot help it. I _am _worried. So I beg of you, if you believe that there might be something suspicious happening, if you believe that Legolas and Gimli might be in any danger, tell me what this is about. You know very well that my opinion of Faramir will not change, no matter what I learn."

"I honestly cannot imagine what could be happening," Éowyn admitted. "If Algar is who I think he is, I have talked to his mother and I know his story. I cannot imagine what he might be seeking in Minas Tirith. What is it?" She added, when she saw all blood drain from Aragorn's face.

"His mother, you say?" the King said stiffly. "Algar and Frea told me their mother was dead."

A sudden knock interrupted him. "What is it?" he called, more impatiently than usual. The door opened and a man stepped in, a blade in his hand. He was wearing the guards' uniform, but Aragorn did not recognize him. "What has happened? Is there danger in the palace?" the King demanded, eyeing the unsheathed blade.

It all happened too swiftly for the eyes to follow. The man stepped aside, letting another guard enter. The second guard held a crossbow and pulled the trigger. Aragorn followed the arrow's path and his throat tightened with a soundless scream. All he could do was jump over the desk, scattering fruit and nuts and broken bowls on the floor.

Éowyn felt herself being pushed. She cushioned the fall with her arms and rolled around to avoid her belly being pressed against the floor. "No," she whispered in horror and her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the arrow protruding from Aragorn's lower back. The man was very pale and breathing heavily, and beads of sweat were rapidly appearing on his forehead. A shiver ran down Éowyn's spine as she realized that if Aragorn had not pushed her aside, the arrow would have struck her belly.

Aragorn looked up, shaking. The man who shot at them had now drawn out his sword and was advancing on him. "It is over, Your Majesty," he said, but then his eyes widened and he stared, transfixed at the bloody blade that had pierced his back and was now emerging from his stomach.

"Nothing is over," Éowyn whispered when she pulled the sword from his limp fingers, "apart from your sorry life." She turned around just in time to parry the blow the other guard had aimed at her. To her horror, she could see two more men advancing behind him.

"Drop your blade and step aside," the man said. "Our orders are to take you both alive if we can. There is no need for bloodshed."

Éowyn's eyes were blazing. "You, spawn of an orc! You tried to kill my unborn child," she hissed. "You hurt my King. And now you are telling me to _step aside_! I did not step aside when I faced the Witch King. What makes you think I would do so now? You are not even a real man, attacking us like that. You are a cowardly, spineless cockroach. And cockroaches need to be crushed. Give me a reason to crush you, and I will not hesitate."

"These are big words, my lady," the man said as he swung his blade from the right, meaning to decapitate her. She raised her sword to block it, but her arms were trembling and it was obvious that she was exhausted enough simply from standing up. "But you are badly outnumbered and are tiring fast."

He continued to aim a series of blows at her and all she could do was block and retreat. She tried to steal a glance at Aragorn from the corner of her eyes, but could not find him right away and did not wish to break her concentration. She took a step back at every blow until she could feel the cold stone wall pressing against her back. The man swung his sword again, but instead of blocking, this time she ducked under his arm and circled around him. Her attacker's blade struck against the stone and shook, sending tremors along the man's arms. Éowyn wasted no time and thrust her sword into his back. "We may be outnumbered," she whispered, "but _you_ are badly outmatched."

She looked up to find the other two men lying bloodied on the floor. Aragorn stood over them, breathing heavily. He looked ready to fall over and she hurried to offer him support.

"You should not overexert yourself like this. It is dangerous for the child," he chastised her.

"As you wish, next time I will leave you to fight four men on your own," Éowyn replied dryly. "Let me take a look at your wound," she said, voice suddenly turning worried. "The arrow might have struck a kidney."

"I do not believe it has. I will be well," Aragorn replied, but allowed her to check on him.

"Should we call the guards?"

He shook his head. "These men are wearing guards' uniforms. Perhaps they have already disposed of the guards in this part of the palace. And most probably they are not alone. We should not alert the rest that their plan has failed."

Éowyn used a knife to tear a piece of her now bloodied white dress. "We need to remove the arrow. If you walk around like this, it can cause more damage. So what is our plan then?"

"These men were after both you and me," Aragorn said. "Perhaps our families are also in danger. I need to check on them. But first, I need to take you somewhere safe."

"I see," a strange mixture of annoyance and amusement was colouring her voice. "I need to hide in safety, while you go out and fight the enemy. Why does that sound familiar?"

Aragorn smiled at the memories. "I have not forgotten your opinion on such arrangements, Éowyn, but now you have the child to think about. It is not only your life you are putting in danger."

She nodded. "You are right, I suppose. But you cannot imagine how hard it is to hide and wait for news, while everyone you love is out there, fighting and in danger. Very well, take me someplace safe. Do you know where that might be? Do you know of any place that is not infiltrated by these men?"

The man rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I wish I knew. I have an idea where to take you, but I cannot say if the way leading there will be safe."

-:-

Legolas walked some distance away from the hut, making sure no one could follow his tracks. When he reached a large tree, he knelt down and carefully placed Gimli on the grass. He hated to leave the dwarf in the woods unprotected, but he doubted that the twins would find him here, and so the only danger remained the wild animals. The elf placed the kitchen knife next to his friend – he felt better knowing that Gimli would have a weapon when he awoke. Then he stood up and gathered leaves and fallen branches and covered the still form. "Watch over him, my friend," he whispered, placing a palm on the tree's bark.

Once that was done, Legolas stood up, a new fire burning in his eyes. Without looking back, he sprinted towards the White City as fast as only an elf could run.

-:-

"My Lady, it is Nestabess who sends me," Frea explained as she entered the Queen's chamber.

"Is something wrong?" Arwen asked.

"Nothing to worry about. But there is a mild flu spreading across the City, and Nestabess made a tonic she advises everyone to take. It is good for prevention, she says. I have bought some for you and your maids."

Arwen smiled. "This is kind of you, but I do not suffer from human ailments. You can give it all to my maids."

Frea shook her head. "You may be immune to the disease, but the Princess is not. She is too young to take the tonic directly, but if you drink it, it will make your milk stronger."

The Queen nodded. "Yes, you are right, thank you."

Frea poured four cups for the Queen and her three maids and exited the suite. She waited briefly outside until Jarl appeared. "What news?" she asked.

"Faramir is down," the man replied. "But his wife was not there with him."

"She is in the King's study," Frea said. "I sent four men there, it should be enough. But you can go and check on them, after all they do not have your skills," she nodded meaningfully at the blowtube, hanging on the man's belt.

Jarl disappeared around the corner and Frea went back into the Queen's suite. All four women were sleeping; they were lying on the floor in various positions, presumably trying to get to the door after they realized something was wrong. Frea took out a dart and made a scratch on each woman's skin; this was a drug that had to enter the bloodstream directly and would ensure a very, very long sleep.

Little Gilraen was crying in her cradle. Frea approached the baby and hesitated only briefly before she wiped away some of the drug from a dart and pierced the baby's skin. The Princess stopped crying immediately and went still and limp. Frea was not sure if this was the correct dosage for an infant, but the baby had to die at the end anyway, so she was not particularly bothered. Now she only needed to wait for news from her brother and Jarl.

-:-

"So you will also have a baby sister soon?" Eldarion asked his friend as they walked towards the training fields.

"I prefer a brother," Elboron admitted.

"A sister is great too!" Eldarion assured him. "We should go and play with mine after we are done training, then you will change your mind. And why do you need a brother anyway? You have me already!"

"Prince Eldarion! My prince!"

The boys turned around and Eldarion smiled when he recognized the new servant.

"Elboron, let me introduce you to Algar. He is very skilled at fighting snakes and promised to teach me."

"And I will keep my word, my lord. But now we have no time. Your fathers require your presence. They have a surprise for you."

"What surprise?" Eldarion asked delighted.

"Come with me. I will explain on the way. But we have to be sneaky, your mothers should not find out."

"You have my attention," said Elboron with a grin.

The two boys followed the servant as he explained the plot. "Your fathers are planning to take you on an adventure. They mean to disguise as commoners and travel to Rohan and take you with them, and let you see the world."

"Mother will worry," Eldarion said, but there was more excitement than actual regret in his voice.

"They will leave letters and the other lords have been informed. All preparations have been made."

They reached a large covered cart, laden with heavy wooden boxes. "Let us wait them inside," Algar said. "We do not want anyone to see us."

The two boys climbed into the cart, nearly bursting with anticipation. "Your fathers will bring food and water and clothes, and everything else necessary," the servant explained. "But this is not the full surprise. They have something else prepared for you."

"What?" The boys asked eagerly.

Algar laughed. "They asked me to give you something. Close your eyes and give me your hands."

The boys did.

Algar took out two little darts and stuck them in the two outstretched palms.

-:-

"Éowyn, you have to tell me something," Aragorn said as the two stumbled down the corridor, away from the massacre in the King's study. He was barely able to stand on his feet but stubbornly refused her help, seeing how drained she look. "We cannot know for certain that the twins have something to do with this attack, but it seems very likely. I think it is time you should tell me the truth. I need to know what I am fighting against."

"I agree," Éowyn said. "But this is not my secret to tell. You should ask Faramir. You should learn it from him, not from me."

"Yes, but he is not here now. You are," Aragorn argued. "I have told you before, there is nothing you could say that will make me think any less of Faramir."

Éowyn was silent for a moment, but then she nodded resolutely. "This is not about Faramir," she said, looking Aragorn in the eyes. "It is about Denethor."

Before she could say more, Éowyn gasped and swayed on her feet. Aragorn stared in horror at the dart stuck in her neck. He rushed forward to catch her and stop her fall, but never saw if he succeeded. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

-:-

A large cart approached the last gate that separated Minas Tirith from the fields below. Berion raised his hand in greeting. "Frea! Algar! Where are you off to?"

"We are going to our hut to collect our luggage," the girl said. "King Elessar lent us a cart and boxes."

"This is good of him. Do you need any help?"

"Thank you, Berion," Frea said, smiling brightly. "But we do not plan to take so much. We will manage on our own."

She waved goodbye and the cart hurried down the road. They were some distance away, when a frantic cry made the guards look to their right.

"Stooooop! Stop them!" Legolas shouted, running towards the gates like a spirit possessed. His eyes were wide and terrified, and his hair was flapping wildly behind him. "Stop them, they are traitors! Stop the cart!"

The guards needed some time to realize what was happening, and Legolas cursed his bow's absence. He looked frantically around, looking for something he could use, and then picked a fist-sized stone. Aiming carefully, he threw it towards the running horses.

It hit a horse's flank, making it bolt and spooking the other one. The scared animals ran away from the road, over a large boulder. The cart keeled to the side, heavy boxes falling down and silken clothes scattering everywhere. Unfortunately, Algar regained control over the horses and the now much lighter cart was back on its way.

"Riders! Send riders after them!" The elf screamed, his throat raw. Several guards had emerged, hearing the commotion, but to Legolas's horror, half of them unsheathed their weapons and attacked the rest. Then he remembered Gimli's words – Frea and Algar had accomplices who had already infiltrated the city. His heart sank as he realized the true proportions of this plot.

He was about to race after the cart on foot, when he noticed something peculiar. One man had left the fray and was approaching the scattered boxes. Legolas narrowed his eyes. What in these boxes could be that precious?

And then he froze in horror when he noticed a sight that would haunt his nightmares. A pale hand, half-buried among all the silk.

These were not boxes. These were _coffins_. The treacherous twins had murdered the royal family and hidden the bodies inside. He was too late. Legolas wanted to retch.

But then he forced himself out of his stupor. Why was this man making his way towards the boxes if they contained nothing but corpses? And then he knew. Someone there was still alive. The man wanted to get to them and use them as hostages.

Once again, Legolas lamented his lack of weapons, but he had to do with what was available. He ran towards one of the fallen guards and took his knife. Quickly, he ran towards the boxes and threw it at the man, stopping him before he had reached his destination.

It took Legolas mere moments to reach the boxes himself and he knelt by the one where he had seen the hand. Gently, almost reverently, he disentangled Arwen from all the silks. She refused to wake and was very pale, but was very much alive. The elf suspected she was given the same drug used against Gimli and himself. Ire rose in his heart at those who had treated the Queen in such a way. He closely examined the wooden box – there were some holes on the sides, presumably for breathing, but she could have easily suffocated with all the cloths around. Legolas was about to move to the next box, when something else caught his attention and he gasped in shock.

No. This could not be. No one could be that cruel. He moved the clothes aside, revealing little Gilraen's still form. Tears filled up his eyes as he gently held the baby. She was always so full of life, but now was lying still like a broken doll. A quick examination showed him that the infant was still alive, but there was no telling if and when she would awake, and if she would be well if she did.

By now the enemy men had been either killed or had decided to run away, so several guards had joined the elf. "Healers!" Legolas yelled at them, tears streaming down his face. "We need healers here!"

Trembling, he moved to the next box. As much as he wanted to hold Arwen and her daughter until the end of time, he knew that there were others who needed help.

"No. No no no, please no," he shook his head in denial when he moved to the next box. He thought that after seeing the drugged baby, he would have been prepared for everything, but he had been wrong. As he held Éowyn's unconscious form, he wanted to rip the twins' heads off with his bare hands. What madness was this to use the drug on a pregnant woman? It could cause a miscarriage or irreparable damage to the child. But this was not the end of his horror, for Éowyn's dress was torn and soaked in blood. Perhaps it was too late to save the child, or perhaps she herself was hiding a severe wound. "Where are the healers?" he sobbed.

The guards were now helping him, and soon Eldarion's and Elboron's unconscious forms were revealed, but the rest of the boxes were filled with only silks, or were empty.

"They have King Elessar's and Lord Faramir's families, but not the Lords themselves," one man observed. "Why would they be after only the women and children?"

"Perhaps they were not," said Legolas darkly, barely managing to speak around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat as he realized what had happened. "Not all boxes fell off the cart. These madmen, who do not hesitate to poison pregnant women and newborn babes, now have Aragorn and Faramir in their hands."

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Ghosts from the Past

_Many thanks to those of you who reviewed! I cannot reply if you are not signed in and don't leave an email, or if you have disabled private messages, but you must know that your comments are treasured!_

_I am sorry this chapter took longer than usual. My initial intentions were to update every week, but I have very little time to write nowadays and it looks like I won't be able to keep up. Still, I am quite inspired by this story, so I don't anticipate any month-long delays. On the positive side, chapters are getting longer since things finally start happening._

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Ghosts from the Past**_

Legolas sat on an empty cot in the Houses of Healing, his head buried in his hands. Gimli and Arwen had awoken hours ago and looked well enough, much to his relief, but the Queen had been inconsolable after learning of her family's fate. She was sitting silently by her children's beds now, her eyes fixed on the steady rise and fall of her daughter's tiny chest. Gimli was sitting next to Legolas and the dwarf's sorrow was palpable.

The elf's gaze moved from the Queen to Éowyn's sleeping form and his brow furrowed in thought. The healers had said that she was unharmed and none of the blood on her dress belonged to her. But whose blood was it then? Four slain men in guards' uniforms had been found in Aragorn's study and he was anxious to learn if there was a connection.

"My lady?" Nestabess approached the Queen cautiously. "There is a guard outside, and he wishes to speak to you. He brings news from the search party."

Legolas and Gimli stood up and approached them at the news. "I asked him to wait outside," the old woman continued. "I did not wish him to disturb the sick. Will you go to him?"

Arwen turned empty eyes at her, but did not say a word for a moment. "My children have not yet awoken. My daughter might never wake. I wish to be with them in case... in case..." she suddenly broke into sobs and Legolas knelt down, embracing her.

"Arwen, your daughter has your and Estel's strength," he said firmly. "You must not lose hope. But you need to be strong now; the King and Steward are missing, and the Prince is unconscious. Gondor will look up to you now; there is no one else to lead them."

Arwen slowly raised her head, and there was new resolve in her eyes. "Nestabess, does the man… does he have news of the King? Did they find something?"

The healer shook her head. "I do not know what news he has, my lady. I fear you need to speak to him yourself."

The Queen nodded and stood up. "Please, look after my children. Call me if anything changes." She walked out, and Gimli and Legolas followed her readily, eager to hear the news.

A man was waiting outside, his clothes covered in dust. "My Queen! I fear you will not like the news," he said quickly, obviously eager to be done with this. "We have found the cart. It was abandoned, together with the boxes inside, and the horses and the twins were gone. The King and Steward were missing as well."

Legolas fisted his hands in frustration. It all made sense. Now that Algar and Frea had only two prisoners, it was much faster to continue on horseback.

"Could you follow their tracks?" Arwen asked.

The guard shook his head. "The road is busy and many horses have passed. It was impossible to distinguish which tracks are theirs. We have sent search parties across the land, looking through every forest, every cave, every possible hideout. We _will_ find them, my Queen."

"They could be anywhere," Arwen whispered. "Send word to all towns and villages. Send the twins' description; they have a very distinct appearance. Someone somewhere must have seen them."

"I will, my lady. Lord Legolas, I have some news for you as well. We searched through the twins' former home and found your and Lord Gimli's weapons. I will have them brought to you."

"Thank you, this will be helpful indeed," Legolas said. "But first, please do as the Queen commands. We have no time to lose."

The guard nodded and left, and the Queen turned back towards the door. "Arwen." Legolas stopped her with a gentle touch on her elbow. "I ask for your permission to join the search parties."

She looked at him and slowly shook her head. "There are many search parties sent in all directions. We have no indication which way they might have left. I do not wish to lose your talents at the wrong place. It will be wiser to wait for news and send you once we have a better idea where they may be." Her face suddenly crumbled. "In any case, I beg you to stay with me until my children awake. We may have need of you here."

The elf sighed. "Arwen, I love Eldarion and Gilraen with all my heart, you know I do. But they are safe here and the healers will look after them. There is nothing more I can do. But Aragorn and Faramir are out there, in enemy's hands. Their condition might be getting worse by the minute. They are the ones who need me."

The Queen's eyes filled with tears. "You think I do not know that?"

"Lord Aragorn!" The frantic cry came from inside the Houses of Healing, and Arwen, Gimli and Legolas rushed through the door. Éowyn was sitting up, looking wildly around. Several healers had rushed to her, trying to calm her down. Legolas frowned. Why had the lady called out for Aragorn, rather than Faramir or her son? Unless… unless his suspicions were correct and Éowyn had something to do with the dead men in the King's study.

"Shh, Éowyn, you are safe now, you are among friends," he said, sitting down on her bed and putting his hands on her shoulders. He had grown close to Faramir and Éowyn during his time in Ithilien and knew that she would probably trust him more than she did the healers. "All is well now."

"No, nothing is well!" she cried, trying to get out of his grip. "There are enemy men inside the palace! We were trying to escape them. Where is Aragorn?"

"Yes, we know, we know, they are gone now," Legolas said, although he was not so certain of this. Were there any more of these men left in the City, disguised as guards? The captains were checking all men, but there was no guarantee someone had not slipped away undetected. "You are safe now," he repeated, trying to reassure himself as well. "Please, tell me what happened. What do you remember?"

She furrowed her brow, trying to concentrate. "We were in Lord Aragorn's study, talking. Then some guards entered and attacked us. They tried to kill me and my baby… Lord Aragorn saved us… he was hurt…"

Legolas's breath caught in his throat. "The blood on your dress… was it his?"

"Not all of it," Éowyn replied darkly. "The men fought us. We killed them. Then we wanted to get someplace safe. Aragorn was leading me somewhere; he was barely able to walk. Then… then I cannot remember. Where is he?" she looked up at the elf's pale face. "Legolas, tell me!"

"They took him," Legolas said softly. "But I will find him, I swear."

"I am sorry," Éowyn sobbed. "I could have prevented this if only I had spoken earlier. Legolas, please, tell me what happened!"

"You were drugged," Legolas explained. "It appears you both were. Were we able to save you, but not him. And- there is more I need to tell you."

"Drugged?" she interrupted him. "What about my child?"

Legolas closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were filled with pain. "Éowyn, you are a healer, you know how dangerous it can be for a pregnant woman to take any strong drug. The healers have examined you and say that the child's heart is beating normally, and you should soon feel if he is still kicking as strongly and as often as before. But whether there will be any other damage, we cannot say before you give birth."

"No," Éowyn's eyes filled with tears. "My child cannot suffer such a fate!" She buried her face in Legolas's chest. "Where is Faramir? I need him. Where is he?"

The elf froze. She pulled back and looked up, panicked. "Legolas, where is my husband? And where is Elboron?"

Legolas took a deep breath. "Elboron is here, in this room, sleeping." He started with the easier question.

Her eyes widened. "Sleeping? Was he… was he drugged as well?"

"Yes, but he is strong and we believe he will wake up without complications."

She searched his face. "Legolas, what are you not telling me? Where is Faramir?"

This time, the elf found his courage and met her eyes. "I will find him too. I swear."

"No." She shook her head in denial. "This cannot be happening, no, please no! It is all my fault. I should have told Aragorn everything. But I never thought, I never imagined Tyra could do something like this!"

"Easy, Éowyn," Legolas interrupted. "What did you have to tell Aragorn? What do you know that we do not?"

She fell silent and looked away. The elf could see that the tale would be hard to tell; perhaps he even did not have the right to know it. But if he was to help Aragorn and Faramir, he had to know what he was up against. "Will you tell me?" he asked.

"Yes," Éowyn said, brushing her tears away. "Yes. I will tell you."

-:-

"Aragorn! My lord, can you hear me?"

Aragorn blinked furiously, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He tried to move, but his hands and feet were chained and allowed little freedom. Finally, his vision cleared well enough, and he could see that he was in a small wooden room. There were no windows and the only light was coming from a small candle. He was feeling very dizzy, but whether that was because of the drug or his wound, he could not tell.

"Thank the Valar you are awake!" Faramir said relieved. "You have been asleep for much longer than me. I assumed the drug had affected you more strongly because of your blood loss."

Aragorn glanced at his waist. Someone had changed the bandage; they wanted him alive it seemed. This relieved and worried him at the same time. "What happened?" he asked groggily. "I remember trying to run away with Éowyn-"

Faramir gasped. "She was taken as well then?"

"I fear so," Aragorn said sadly. "And if they are after us, they may have captured Arwen and the children too. Faramir, tell me, what is happening? Who are Frea and Algar? What do they want? I know that you know something, and do not try to deny it."

The Steward sighed. "You have a right to know. I should have told you earlier, then perhaps all this could have been avoided. But you must promise me not to tell anyone. Not the Queen, not Legolas, not anyone."

"They may learn it one way or another before this is over I fear," Aragorn said. "But they will not learn it from me. Tell me, my friend, what is it that it bothers you so?"

Faramir started, and his voice was low and strained. "Shortly after the War was over, a red-haired woman came to Ithilien and requested an audience. Her youngest son was with her. Her name was Tyra and the boy's name – Edric. I accepted her, but I never should have."

He fell silent and Aragorn waited patiently for him to continue. "Tyra had come because she wanted money. She said that this boy- she said that he was my father's son. My half-brother. She claimed that my father used to give her money regularly to help her raise the child and demanded that I do the same. She had two older children, she said, and was unable to support them all."

"Algar and Frea," Aragorn murmured.

"I knew that she was lying," Faramir continued. "My father would never dishonour himself in such a manner. But her words were dangerous. What if someone heard her and believed her? I would not have her sully my father's memory! It is already sullied way more than he deserves!"

"And so you sent her away," Aragorn said knowingly.

"She tried to come several times afterwards, the most recent only a year ago. I sent her away every single time, but later learned that Éowyn had given her some gold, and more than once. She said she did not care if this boy was my father's son or not; the woman was trying to raise three children all by herself and was struggling. I told her that many women were raising children on their own because their husbands had died in the war, serving Gondor, and that they deserved help much more than this harlot who does not even know who fathered her children. She was angry at me then; she said a woman's worth should not be measured by who her husband is and that children's happiness should not depend on who their father is. She said that the widows of war had enough help, but no one was willing to assist women like Tyra. We had a rather long argument about it."

Faramir sighed tiredly and looked up. To his dismay, he saw only compassion in the King's eyes.

"Aragorn, you cannot be thinking that- Tell me you do not believe that it may be true? That this boy could really be my father's son?"

"Your father was a man, Faramir," Aragorn said softly. "A noble one, yes, but a man nevertheless. I understand why it must be hard for you to accept it-"

"I do not accept it because it is _not _true," Faramir said firmly. "Are you not also a man, my lord? You have wandered alone for many years before you were allowed to wed Lady Arwen. Tell me, have you ever thought of seeking comfort with another woman?"

"Never," Aragorn replied without hesitation. "But this is different."

"How is it different?" Faramir challenged, his voice rising. "I will be honest with you, my lord. I have yet to meet anyone who does not believe that my father was a lesser man than you. And yes, it pains me to say it, but I myself believe that my father was a lesser man than you, Aragorn. In so many ways. But not in this. I knew my father. He was a man of honour and he loved my mother. In this one thing, he was your equal."

"I know that," Aragorn said. "I have lived in Minas Tirith while Finduilas still lived, and I have seen his love and devotion. But your mother died many years ago. Your father has been alone all this time, and if this Tyra is anything like her children, she must be very beautiful."

"Then tell me, my lord," Faramir said angrily. "If Lady Arwen died, would you even think about seeking another woman, even many years after?"

"Of course not!" Aragorn said, appalled at the thought.

"Then do not tell me it is different because it is not," Faramir said. "This Edric is not my half-brother. I had one brother, and he is dead. My father loved my mother until the day he died. He never fathered another woman's child."

-:-

"Faramir never believed Edric could be Denethor's son," Éowyn continued with her story. "But I do not think it is impossible."

"And you have seen the boy?" Gimli prompted. "Does he look like he could be Faramir's half-brother?"

She shrugged. "It is hard to say. He has the Númenórean looks for certain, but half the boys in Gondor do. I saw nothing more than that. Perhaps I should have told Aragorn right away, but I never imagined Tyra and her children would be capable of such deeds. " She buried her face in her hands. "I doubt that Faramir would have wanted me to tell you."

"You did the right thing," said Legolas. "We need to know everything about these people if we are to help him and Aragorn. He will understand."

Only, he was not certain how any of the new information aided them in their search.

-:-

"Forgive me, my friend," said Aragorn. "You knew your father better than I did. Your opinion is more valid than mine."

The Steward shook his head. "I understand why you would believe such a thing, Aragorn. Many foul things have been said about my father, and many of them are true. But this is not one of them. It pains me that this woman is throwing more dirt on his memory and everyone so readily believes it."

"Thank you for sharing this with me," the King said. "Now let us think about how this information helps us. What could the twins be after? We know that they went after you and me, and possibly after our families. Could it be that they are clearing the way for Edric to rule?"

Faramir snorted. "This is ridiculous. Even if this boy is my father's son, _and he is not_, he was born out of wedlock. He has no claim."

"He has a better claim than anyone if all of our heirs are dead," Aragorn said. "I believe this is what they are after, and of course they would need to hide that they were the ones who killed us because the crime would negate whatever claim they might have." He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wooden wall. The dizziness was increasing by the minute; it was probably not the drug then. "But this is not all. They have allies. Four men attacked me and Éowyn, and there must have been more." He barely spoke the last through clenched teeth, fighting his rising nausea.

"Aragorn, are you unwell?" Faramir asked worriedly.

The King opened his eyes. "Faramir, do you feel as if the room is shaking? I am not sure if it is the drug or the blood loss that makes me feel so."

Faramir laughed, a bitter, mirthless sound. "Aragorn, do not tell me you have not figured that out. The room is shaking because we are on a ship."

-:-

The wind blew brown strands of hair into her face, and Frea angrily brushed them away. Her hair still smelled strange from the annoying chestnut powder she had used to dye her fiery locks, but it had been necessary. Her look was too distinctive and she had needed to be unnoticeable until they reached the ship. But now they were on the ship, and they were safe. Or at least safe before they met her mother.

"Five more days and we should be in Umbar if the winds are good," Jarl said, walking on the deck behind her. "Though I am not certain I look forward to our arrival. Captain Gulbrand will be somewhat pleased with us; we have the King at least, if not the Prince. But your mother- your plan has failed completely, has it not?"

"Not completely," Frea snapped. "We have the King, and he is the one we need to recognize our claim. It will be harder to persuade him without having his wife and children, but we have other methods. And yes, we will be unable to let him go and recognize our claim in public as planned, because we have no hostages to keep and make him come back, but he can recognize it on paper, which should be enough."

"Your claim is nothing until all the heirs are dead," Jarl pointed out.

"And they will die, one way or another," said Frea impatiently. "Our plan has not failed, I said. We hold the most important piece."

"And yet, you did fail," said Jarl sadly. "You never wanted your treachery to be exposed. Now everyone in Gondor knows that it is you who kidnapped the King. Chestnut hair or not, you can never return."

"No, we cannot," Frea admitted. "But they have no way of connecting Edric to us. He can assume his rightful place and Mother can join him, perhaps with a dyed hair so that nothing connects her to us. And maybe one day when things have calmed down and everyone has forgotten about us, we could return. Until then, I do not mind living in Umbar, I rather like the weather."

"Are you certain no one knows that Edric is your brother?"

"Lady Éowyn does. We will need to take care of that first, I suppose. But come, let us see if our honoured guest is awake!"

Frea nodded at her brother, and Algar and a few Corsairs joined them on the way down. Algar opened the door and the twins entered the little cabin.

The girl frowned at what she saw. "Jarl, who told you to lock them together? I wish to speak to the King. Take the piece of filth out of my sight!"

Several men went to unchain Faramir from the wall, and the Steward glared at her. "Do you think you will get away with this?" he hissed.

Frea returned his gaze evenly. "And do you think you will get away with the way you treated my mother? We are not the ones who started this."

"Wait," Aragorn cried. "You said you wished to speak with me. I will talk to you only if Faramir stays."

"There is nothing we wish to tell you that he has not heard many times already and refused to listen," Algar said. "But if he wishes to hear it again, he is welcome to." He paused and crouched down, so that his face was level with Aragorn's. "Your Majesty, we apologize for the way we have treated you. You have been good to us, and we wish to respond in kind. We have brought you here to ask you to correct a great injustice. We were afraid you would not have listened to us otherwise."

"And what makes you think that attacking me and my friends would make me listen to you?" Aragorn asked.

"Should I teach him how to talk respectfully, Algar?" Jarl asked, a little too eagerly.

"No, you fool," Frea said angrily. "We are here to talk to the King, not to satisfy your twisted pleasures! Your Majesty, please forgive my companion's behaviour, a Corsair knows no better. As my brother was saying, we are trying to correct a great wrong, and you are the only one who can help us."

"Sixteen years ago, Lord Denethor fathered an illegitimate son," Algar continued. "A boy named Edric, our half-brother. Lord Denethor was a good man; he never shunned responsibility from what he had done and vowed to give the boy a good life. While he was alive, he sent money to support the mother and child. Moreover, he sent tutors to prepare the boy for a high position in society. Unfortunately, his courage was not enough to do what was right – to publicly recognize the boy as his son. Edric's life was secured while Lord Denethor lived, but after his death there was no one who knew of his true parentage and no one to provide for him. Our mother requested an audience with Lord Faramir several times, but every single time she was insulted and humiliated. Lady Éowyn gave us some money, but my brother deserves better. My brother deserves to sit among the nobles of Gondor, where he belongs."

"And why would I believe any of this nonsense?" Aragorn asked coldly. "What proof have you that this boy is a son of Denethor?"

"We can bring Edric to you," Frea said. "He is planned to follow us on another ship; they must be a few hours behind us. Once you see him, you will ask for no proof. His resemblance to Lord Denethor and his other sons is striking. But if this is not enough, we will introduce you to witnesses who have seen Lord Denethor in my mother's company. We could even track down some of the tutors the lord sent."

Aragorn laughed. "Surely, you cannot mean this! Not every son looks like his father, and not every two men who look alike are related! To use looks as a proof of parentage is ridiculous! As for your witnesses, you have recruited so many men to your cause! Many have fought for you, died for you. How hard would it be to have a few lie for you? I cannot trust of word of what your witnesses say. I only trust what my own eyes have seen. I have seen Lord Denethor, and I knew him well enough. I do not know whose son you brother is, but it is not his."

Frea's gaze was hard. "Take Faramir away," she said calmly.

Three Corsairs grabbed the chained Steward and carried him out of the cabin, despite his futile attempts to fight them. As the door closed, Frea kneeled next to her brother.

"Your Majesty, I know you said all that in order to spare poor Faramir's feelings. But he is gone now and we can speak freely. You know as well as I that even Lord Denethor was not above basic human temptations."

"I know nothing of the kind," said Aragorn. "What I do know is that if you indeed had solid proof, you could have talked to me earlier and presented your claim, instead of trying to harm me and my family. I am your prisoner now and I cannot see why you try to make me believe in your cause when it is clear that you want to extract what you want from me by force and threats. Let us not play this game anymore; whether this boy is Denethor's son or not no longer matters. Speak plainly! What do you want from me and what terms do you offer?"

"Very well," Algar conceded. "As we have told you already, we wish to see our brother in his rightful place. Unfortunately, we will be unable to join him, as our actions have condemned us in the eyes of your subjects, but it is enough for us to know that Edric will be given the respect he deserves. We ask you to sign a decree, where you recognize our brother as Lord Denethor's son and legitimize him. You will sign it with an older date, of course, and Edric will wait for a few months before he appears at court, so that no one will easily make the connection between us and your disappearance, and our brother."

"Algar, you know very well that even if your brother is recognized as nobility, this would not absolve him from committed crimes," Aragorn said. "If a connection between him and your actions is found, he would have to answer for it. No one will see the connection if he appears at court in a few months, you say. But I already know about it, and so does Faramir. I doubt you will release us on our words that we will keep silent about this. Be honest with me. You do not mean to release us alive."

The twins exchanged a glance, seemingly taken aback by the king's observation. "No, we do not. We cannot release you, as you well realize, but we do not mean to kill you either. If you comply, you will be kept under house arrest until the end of your days and will be denied no comfort. We can even lock you together with Faramir, so that you can keep each other company. But, most of all, if you agree with our demands, your wife and children will be set free, and your son will be able to rule Gondor as is his right. They know nothing about Edric and are no threat to us."

"You are lying!" Aragorn cried, but his wide, terrified eyes and his pale face bellied his conviction. "You do not have Arwen and my children!"

"It was easy to capture them," Frea said softly, almost gently. "They trusted us completely."

"If they are here, then let me see them!" Aragorn demanded.

"You know very well why we cannot do that," Frea said. "You cannot be allowed to talk. We must be sure they know nothing of our connection to Edric. If we let them talk to you, we cannot release them ever again. It is for their own protection. What say you, Your Majesty? Will you sign the decree?"

"Never," Aragorn said through clenched teeth. "I do not believe a single word you say. And even if you did have my family, how would I know that you would keep your promises? With mine, and possibly Faramir's families gone, your brother can aspire for the Steward's seat instead of a mere noble's title. After all you have done I believe your ambition is higher than what you claim."

"In time you will see we are telling the truth," said Frea. "We will leave you to think on our words for a few days and will talk to you again. But remember this – no matter what you do, you and Faramir will be our prisoners until the end of your days. Your choice is if you will both live in comfort or in pain, and if your family will be prisoners too. And remember, we need _you_, we do not need them. I cannot say for how long we will keep any of them alive if you remain obstinate."

"Let us leave him a few days alone in the darkness, with no food and water, and see if he becomes more agreeable," Jarl suggested.

"We do not mean to torture him," Algar said.

"But this is no torture," the Corsair said calmly. "Let us call it… letting nature run its course. Do I have your permission?"

"Very well," the young man said with a resigned sigh. "Do as you will."

"No food, no water," the Corsair mused aloud. "But we must also ensure he gets no rest." He motioned to a few of his men.

A Corsair walked out of the cabin and soon returned with a ladder in his hands. He unlocked Aragorn's chains from the wall and climbed up the ladder. When he was at the top, another pirate handed him the loose end of Aragorn's chains, and he winded it through a wide iron loop, attached to the ceiling. Then several men held the chain and pulled.

"Pull it until his arms are stretched high above his head and he is barely standing on his toes," Jarl instructed. "In this way he will be forced to stand on his toes all the time, or his chained wrists will have to bear all his weight."

"But once he is unable to stand any longer and is suspended by the chain, this could dislocate his both shoulders, or break his wrists, or cause even more serious damage!" Frea protested.

"He needs to say but one word, and we will stop this," Jarl said. "Do we have the word, Your Majesty?" Aragorn's burning glare was enough of an answer. "Very well," the Corsair said. "We should leave him like this and visit him again in two days' time. May the solitude bring him wisdom."

The twins and the Corsairs were making their way to the door, when Aragorn's soft but firm voice stopped them.

"You are wasting your time," the King said. "Kill me now and let us be done with this. I do not believe a word you said. You do not have my wife and children."

Frea turned and her eyes glimmered in the light of the dying candle. "Oh, but we do. And they are not the only ones we have."

Aragorn's eyes widened at this. "What do you mean?" he asked despite his resolution not to play this game.

The young woman reached inside an inner pocket, took out a small object and threw it at the prisoner's feet. "I believe you recognize this?"

The sheer panic in Aragorn's eyes indicated that indeed he did. The man wildly shook his head in denial. "You will pay for this! What have you done to him?" he demanded angrily, but the power in his words was lost in his shaking voice.

"Nothing irreparable," Frea said calmly. "Not yet. Hair grows back. Fingers, on the other hand, do not."

The twins walked out of the cabin, but the closed door did not stop the raw cry of anguish that echoed through the ship.

"This went as expected," Frea said as they walked out on the deck.

"It went well," Jarl confirmed. "Algar did very well at least, but you, Frea, should have been kinder. We want the king to fear and hate me and the other men, but he should trust you two."

The girl laughed. "Any kinder than this and it would have been unbelievable."

"Perhaps," the Corsair admitted. "But this 'Fingers do not grow back'? It was good, but it should have been my line."

"Alright, next time we should plan and write down what we have to say and decide who says what," the young woman conceded. "But I think this is a waste of time. The King knows our true hearts now. He is no fool. He will never trust us again."

"This is what he thinks now," Jarl said calmly. "But I have broken many men, and I know how the human mind works. We will play a game with him, a game that I have played many times and never lost. We will keep him for many days with little food and water, chained in his current position. He has lost a lot of blood already and his strength is waning as we speak. After a few days his mind will become a blur of pain and confusion and he will remember nothing else, safe for his desire to eat, to drink, to sleep. And there, amidst this haze in his mind, you and Algar will appear to offer him kindness and comfort. You will go to him often to offer him food and water, claiming you are doing it in secret and that I must not know about it. The food will not be enough to keep him strong and sate his hunger, but will be enough to keep him alive. We will add drugs to the food; drugs, that induce fear and hallucinations. After no more than a week, he will be convinced that I and my man are the threat, and you and Algar are his friends, his kind saviours. He will do anything you ask of him. I expect to have the signed decree in two weeks at most."

"Let us hope you are correct," Algar said. "Captain Gulbrand wants his head on a spike, and he will be unwilling to wait for any longer than that."

-:-

"You are late," Arwen said when Legolas came to join her for breakfast. She quickly took in his dishevelled appearance and the clothes that looked very much like the ones he had been wearing the night before. "Have you slept at all?"

"I had trouble sleeping," the elf murmured grumpily and sat at the table.

Arwen sighed. "You went out looking for tracks. What were you hoping to achieve in the middle of the night?"

He turned blazing eyes at her. "And what would you have me do? I cannot stay inside and sleep while I know that Aragorn is in these people's hands and has to suffer through who knows what!"

She winced. "I am as restless as you are, but we need to think before we act. We have to gather all the information we have and come up with a good idea where they might be, and once we know more, you will need to be well-rested if you want to be of any use. Besides, you are needed here. If you had spent the night here, you would have known earlier that Éowyn is missing."

Legolas stood up, nearly knocking his plate down. "What do you mean 'missing'?"

"No one has seen her after she left the Houses of Healing yesterday for what she said would be a short walk. She had neither returned to her room nor gone back to the Houses. She has not even seen Elboron after he awoke. The whole palace is looking for her, but so far with no success."

Legolas was pacing back and forth. "They will probably take her wherever they have taken Aragorn and Faramir, and once we find them, we will find her as well. But the search must continue. There is still hope that she might be in the City. But this means that the twins still have accomplices left here. You and the children are still in danger." He threw a glance at the baby sleeping in the cradle. To everyone's relief, she had awoken from the drug and appeared well and unharmed. "You must be placed under constant guard. Where are the boys?"

"I am not sure. Eldarion is probably overseeing the guards' training; he is taking his duties very seriously in Estel's absence. Elboron must be with him."

"They must not wander alone," Legolas said. "You must stay together and be surrounded by trusted men at all times."

As he spoke, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor and Legolas reached out for his knives. He relaxed a second before the door burst open when he recognized the sound.

"My lady!" Gimli cried. "There is something I need to tell you!"

"And from the looks of it, it must be urgent," she said. "Come Gimli, have some water and tell me."

The dwarf collapsed on a chair. "I am not certain if this is of any use, but it seems to be the only thing we have. My memories from the evening before I was drugged are slowly returning to me, and I remembered the conversation between Frea and the man that I overheard. The man mentioned a name. Gulbrand. Does it mean anything to you?"

Legolas stood up and rushed to support Arwen, who had suddenly gone pale. "What is it?" he asked, alarmed.

"Gulbrand is the new Captain of the Corsairs," she muttered. "He is Dargmor's brother."

Gimli and Legolas exchanged a glance. "No, not the Corsairs again," the elf muttered. "If he is involved, this is much bigger than what we believed."

"Umbar," Gimli said thoughtfully. "Could it be that the twins are taking Aragorn and Faramir there?"

"Unlikely," Arwen said. "The ride will take them a few weeks. And someone will surely see them on the way; they would not take the risk."

"What if they took a ship," Legolas suggested. "This Captain Gulbrand will have no problem to send a ship to take them to Umbar."

The Queen paled even further. "We need to send word to Imrahil! He must send men to the Anduin's estuary and search every ship that wishes to go on to the Sea!"

Legolas shook his head. "No messenger we send can arrive before the ship has already passed."

"What do you suggest then?"

"I do believe the twins have taken a ship to Umbar," Legolas said, "but your men should still continue a thorough search and cover as much area as they can, in case I am wrong. And I will take a ship to Umbar in case I am right."

Arwen nodded. "How many men do you need?"

"For this we should rely on stealth, not numbers," he said. "I will need no men, except for the ship's crew. However," he added with a wink, "I will not say 'no' to a dwarf. Gimli, if you are ready, we can leave at once. Arwen, you must not tell anyone of this. There might still be spies in the palace, and we do not want anyone to know we are travelling to Umbar."

"Very well," she said. "Go to the harbour and talk to Captain Nemirion. He will take you as far as he can go unnoticed, but you will need to complete the last stage of your journey on land. And Legolas… you know well that the ship will leave the Anduin and venture into the Sea. Will you be well?"

"The sea-longing will be strong, I do not doubt it, but I can fight it," Legolas replied confidently.

"I have no doubt that you can," she said, and there was sadness in her eyes. "But what will that do to your heart?"

"Knowing that Aragorn is help captive is worse for my heart than any amount of sea-longing," the elf assured her.

"You know best," she conceded. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached forward and squeezed the elf's hand. "Bring him home safe."

"I will," Legolas said firmly. "I will not rest until he is safe."

Arwen smiled sadly. "I am not sure how much use will be if you do not rest. Take care of yourself as well. Gimli, please keep an eye on him. I will go now and find the boys," she said and picked up her daughter in her arms.

"Guards!" Legolas cried and nodded in satisfaction as he recognized Captain Galaron and two of his men. The Captain had been stationed in Ithilien, and was one of Faramir's most trusted warriors. Arwen would be in good hands. "Please escort the Queen and Princess and never leave them alone. I believe there is still danger in the palace."

"It is the least I can do, my lord," Galaron said gloomily and the elf frowned. There was something strange in the man's voice.

"Is something bothering you, Captain?" he asked.

The man almost smiled. "Our King and Steward are missing. It would be strange if nothing was bothering me."

Legolas had to concede to this point, but he felt there was something more. Still, he decided not to press the man; if whatever was on the Captain's mind was of any use in finding Aragorn and Faramir, he was certain the man would have spoken.

Gimli and Legolas left in search of the ship, and the guards accompanied Arwen to the training fields. Once the room was empty, the lid of a large wooden chest was lifted and two boys crawled out.

"I told you so," Eldarion said. "They never have these conversations when we are around."

"So it is as I feared," Elboron said forlornly. "They have my mother too."

"And this is why we must save them!" The Prince declared.

"How?"

"I know which ship is Captain Nemirion's. We can hide inside and go out once we reach Umbar. And then we can go and save our parents! Come, Elboron, we must take food and water!"

"And clothes and weapons and maps!" The other boy added eagerly, his eyes shining brightly at the thought of the new adventure.

No one saw the two boys rummage through the kitchen and collect their supplies. And no one saw them get on a ship and hide under the bed in a small cabin, deep below the deck.

-:-

"I am so sorry, my friend." Aragorn's gaze was riveted on the golden braid, lying abandoned before his feet. "I did not listen to you and now you are paying for my foolishness!"

A lump formed in his throat as he replayed Frea's words in his mind.

_A Corsair knows no better._

The twins had somehow allied themselves with the Corsairs of Umbar. And he already knew he was on a ship, in all likelihood on the Anduin. They were sailing to Umbar.

No one would think to look for them there. And even if someone did, his men could not openly enter Umbar without starting a full-scale war, and they would be in enemy territory. No, he and his family and friends were beyond help now.

But as horrible as this realization was, there was something else that tore his heart apart. They were sailing to Umbar. They would enter the Sea.

His eyes filled with tears as he gazed at the golden braid. He remembered too well how affected Legolas had been at Pelargir, and they had been still far from the Sea then. To be actually at sea, on a ship, and yet unable to sail not because of a free choice, but because he was kept a prisoner in a dunk cabin… this could kill the elf.

Aragorn angrily squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the sharp sting of tears behind his lids. He could not allow that. He had to find a way out; he had no idea how, but he had to! But there was something else he needed to do first.

The sight of the golden braid lying discarded and forgotten on the filthy floor tore at his heart. Tentatively, he stretched out his leg towards it, trying to reach it.

A wave of agony shot through his arms, his back, his entire body, and he had to stop and take a slow and deep breath. Then he pulled down on the chains with all his strength, desperately fighting for a tiny sliver of freedom of movement, for a hairbreadth forward. He could feel his muscles and tendons stretching to what seemed beyond the point of tearing apart, but after a long while his efforts were rewarded and he could reach the braid with the tip of his boot. Ever so gently, he kicked it back to move it slowly towards him.

Aragorn stood back in his original position, standing on his toes to relieve the tension in his arms. His legs were trembling from the exertion, but his efforts were rewarded. The braid was lying at his feet now.

The man took a few deep breaths, trying to get a brief respite, but he knew that if he waited too long, he would never have the strength for what he was planning to do. With a final slow inhale and exhale, he lifted the braid on the tip of his right boot, all the while standing only on his left toes. Slowly, he slid his right foot up along his left boot, not letting the braid fall off, and then tucked it into his high boot's hem.

With a tired sigh, Aragorn let his right foot fall to the floor. He could stand on all toes now and the braid was closer to his hands, but still painfully out of reach. There was no time to lose. He could feel his strength leaving him with every breath he took.

The man closed his eyes against the pain he knew was to come. Collecting all that was left of his strength, Aragorn bent his elbows, pulling himself up. His wrists exploded in agony and he expected them to break at any moment, but they did not. And now came the hard part. Aragorn stretched up his right hand, letting only his left wrist support his weight. The ordeal lasted only a second before he grabbed the chain with his right hand. Promptly, he used his right arm to pull himself up and grab the chain with his left hand as well.

Now this was better, so much better. Holding the chain instead of actually hanging by his wrists was almost painless in comparison, but he knew that he would be unable to hold on for much longer. With a soft cry, Aragorn pulled himself further, bending his knees and bringing them up, simultaneously letting go of the chain with his left hand and grabbing the braid. While he was still pulled up with his right hand, the man used his left to tie the braid like a bracelet around his right wrist.

There! It was done! A wave of warmth seemed to spread through his heart the moment the golden braid made contact with his bare skin and he knew all of the pain had been worth it. With a satisfied smile, Aragorn let go of the chain. He was planning to stand on his toes as before, but his exhausted legs were unable to support him and he hung once again suspended by his wrists. A sudden spasm passed through his entire body the moment the chain was fully stretched, and he felt more than heard a sickening crack. With a muffled cry, he allowed darkness to take him. But even as the void engulfed his mind, the soft smile of triumph never left his lips.

The light of the candle caught in the golden bracelet one last time before it died away, drowning the cabin in darkness.

**TBC**


	5. Tainted Hope

_Sorry about the delay, I was away for a week, on a trip which turned out quite incredible, but more on that later. Unfortunately, shortly after I returned, I had to deal with an unexpected and very unpleasant emergency, and it completely spoiled my mood for long afterwards, and bad mood is bad for the muse. On top of it, I've been very sick for the past couple of weeks, also bad for muse. And work recently has been more than ever; ironically, the main reason I actually managed to finish this chapter now was that I've been staying home on a sick leave for some days, so I got some time._

_On the positive side, my trip to the UK last month turned out way more exciting than planned. As a result of unbelievable luck, a cunning plan, dedication, a series of coincidences, willingness to freeze to death and hop on strange trains in the middle of the night, and, did I mention, unbelievable luck, I ended up being an extra in Sherlock and even managed to kind of meet certain actors (some of them also familiar from The Hobbit). If any of you are watching the series, keep an eye for me in the bonfire scene when the next episode airs :-P_

_Warning: Some unpleasant images in this chapter. I tried not to be too graphic, but it had to be done. If you've read my older story "Blind Hate", this is nothing worse, so if you weren't bothered then, you should be fine now too._

* * *

_**Chapter 5: Tainted Hope**_

"I cannot do this!" Frea slid down on the deck and angrily hit the wooden planks with her fist.

Jarl sighed. "It did not go well with the King I take it?"

"I was kind and gentle and everything you told me to be, and do you know what he did? He told me to drop the pretence. He said I obviously did not bring the food against your orders and that we clearly wanted him to eat because we needed him alive, and not because of kindness or remorse. And then he said he would not be fed like a small child and demanded I unchain his hands!"

"Did you do it?" Jarl asked.

"Of course not! I left the food there, on the floor. If he refuses to eat, I am not going to beg him."

"You have done well," the Corsair said. "Did you leave a lit candle?" The girl nodded. "Good, this is good. The sight and smell of food will torment him, and he will soon agree to be fed in whatever manner we choose. There is nothing to worry about. Some men are stronger than others, but they all break down in the end. And once he takes a bite, he will also take the drug. The point of breaking will soon follow, I can promise you."

The young woman did not seem convinced. "We do not have all the time in the world. Captain Gulbrand is impatient. He wants to have the King's head and will not wait forever for us to get the signed decree."

"You worry too much," Jarl assured her. "But I admit I am surprised at you, Frea. You have not even tried to use your charms on the King. Your mother has yielded this weapon with great success. And I can see that you could do it if you wanted to; you did well with befriending the guards, but for some reason you are always unwilling to take the last step. Perhaps it would weaken his defenses."

Frea fixed him with a cold glare. "My mother has advised me against the path she has taken. She told me that winning the affections of men with great wealth and power gives you no true strength. At the end, you are just as powerless and dependent on their whims as you always were. She has taught me to use my brains to get wealth and power for myself, in my own right."

"This sounds wise," Jarl admitted. "But now this is exactly what you are fighting for. Power for Edric and your mother, and eventually power for you, so this would be a step towards your final goal. I am simply surprised you are so unlike your mother in that regard; she is rumored to be an unmatched seductress. Legend has it that only one single man ever resisted her powers."

"I would not have you talk about my mother any more," Frea said stiffly. "I am tired of hearing men discussing her and her past and inventing ridiculous tales that have no base in reality. If you have nothing else to say, I will go to find my brother now."

Jarl bowed slightly and moved out of her way as she stormed past him.

-:-

Elboron nibbled on a peach tart as he pored over a map spread on the floor. A small candle illuminated the dunk cabin, and a blanket was folded in front of the door, so that the light would not escape in the corridor and alert others that the cabin was occupied. Thankfully, Legolas had taken only as many men as were needed to steer the ship, and many rooms remained empty.

The boy waited with bated breath at the sound of approaching footsteps and the soft knock on the door. Three quick knocks and two slow. Sighing with relief, Elboron got up and unlocked the door.

Eldarion walked in triumphantly. "Nobody saw me and I learned everything we need to know," he announced happily and reached out for a lemon cake. Naturally, the boys' idea of gathering food supplies had consisted of taking all the sweets in the kitchen and nothing else, but so far none of them was complaining. "There is a single horse on board. Captain Nemirion is planning to set anchor some distance north of Umbar, and Gimli and Legolas will continue on horseback. We can easily follow them on foot."

"And if we lose them, we can still find Umbar easily." Elboron pointed at the map. "All we need to do is go left if we face the sea, and then we simply have to follow the coast."

Eldarion nodded with a grin. Then he stood up and walked to the door, pressing his ear against it to make sure no one was around. When the boys knew for certain that they were alone in this part of the ship, they took out biscuits and jam and celebrated their future success.

-:-

Aragorn stared longingly at the food and water left on the floor. His throat was parched and his stomach was growling in protest. He almost cursed his pride in sending Frea away, but he knew it had been the right thing to do. Thankfully, the girl had not noticed his golden bracelet; Aragorn could not bear the thought that she could have taken it away. His wrist was cracked now, thankfully not broken, but it had been worth it.

The man smiled. If Legolas knew about this, he would have chastised him for spending so much of his strength in a silly sentiment, instead of trying to escape. Oh, but he would escape. It was only a matter of time now. He simply needed some more time to rest and think.

After Aragorn had awoken and accessed his new injuries, he had felt something strange. Something cold was pressed against his skin where Legolas's braid was. He had wondered about it at first, but then he had known. The braid was kept together by a metal pin.

The King had almost laughed then. So often he had wondered what his friend used to tie his braids, as he could see no bands, and now he could finally learn the answer to the mystery. But there was another reason for his mirth – he knew how to pick locks with a pin.

"I am grateful for the help you sent me so unexpectedly, my friend," he murmured in the darkness. "What do you think? Can we escape this together?"

All that he needed to do was find a position such that the chain around his hands would be relaxed and he could move them somewhat freely. His eyes followed the chain, from his hands to the iron loop on the ceiling, and then continuing at an angle towards a larger loop on the lower wall. If he could wrap his legs around the part of the chain between the wall and the ceiling, his arms would have the freedom he needed to work on the shackles.

Naturally, this was easier said than done. At first, Aragorn was planning to repeat his previous feat and pull himself up and grab the rope, but after a series of pitiful attempts, it became painfully obvious that he had no strength left for this, and his cracked wrist did nothing to help matters. He would need to find another way.

And then the answer came to him, clear as day. With a soft laugh, he pushed himself forward and bent his knees, lifting his legs from the ground. He twisted his body forwards and backwards like a child on a swing, making the chain swing like a pendulum. He had done this so many times as a little boy in the gardens of Rivendell. Ah, he had been so good at this back then! Often he had made the swing rise high up and make a full circle around the branch. To reach the lower chain in this manner would be, quite literally, a child's play.

It took him longer than he had expected, but in the end his legs were wrapped securely around the part of the chain connecting the ceiling loop to the wall. This allowed his hands some movement, and he reached towards the braid.

"Now is your turn, Legolas. I place my trust in you, my friend," he murmured as he carefully pulled the pin out of the hair. Much to his relief, the knot he had made earlier prevented the braid from falling apart.

Aragorn set to work and soon his hands were free. He knew he had to lower himself down slowly and carefully, but he had no strength for this now. All he could do was let the chain slip out of his grip and fall to the floor. He lay down, momentarily stunned, before he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was not the time to rest! His friends needed him. He knew for certain that Faramir, Legolas and Éowyn were held captive by these people, and possibly Arwen and the children were here too. He had to act.

Slowly, Aragorn rose to a sitting position and greedily reached for the food and water. It would be foolish to leave them behind in misplaced pride; he needed every bit of strength he could get, and, truthfully, he did not wish to resist his hunger any longer. The loaf of bread was too small for his liking and was gone far too quickly, but he was grateful for what little he had. Aragorn rose to his feet unsteadily and leaned against the wall.

Using the wooden wall for support, the man moved forward gingerly. The rocking of the ship did little to help his wavering feet, but soon enough he was out of the cabin. A few torches illuminated the narrow passageway, and Aragorn looked around, contemplating checking what was behind the many closed doors. And then something caught his eye and he walked forward with renewed strength.

The King reached the steep stairway and started his slow ascent. With every step, the air became fresher. At long last, he had managed to climb above deck.

Aragorn gasped. Night had fallen and a multitude of stars covered the dark sky. He hurried forward to lean against the fence around the deck, and breathed in the fresh night air. Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the deck, but there was no one around him. It looked like everyone had retired for the night and only those needed to steer the ship remained.

His gaze suddenly moved to his bracelet, and he smiled sadly. The elven hair, even removed from its owner, was illuminated by its own internal glow. The light of a thousand stars, the melody of life and creation, the whispers of green trees, the songs of forest birds, the silvery laughter of a mountain spring – they all combined in the light of the Eldar, in the light that now flowed through the golden strands. It brought tears to the man's eyes, but also hope. If the light was still strong, then Legolas had to be alive and well – or at least that was what he chose to believe.

Pale moonlight illuminated unfamiliar sandy shores. They had to be far south already, but this did not bother Aragorn too much at the moment. All he could see was that the shore was only thirty feet away and the waters were calm. Even in his present condition, he could swim the distance. The jump into the water would be harder, but he had jumped from greater heights before and he knew he would survive it and remain conscious. Yes, he could do this. His captors would not discover his absence until the morning, and even then they would probably waste some time searching the ship for him. By the time they realized he had left the ship, he would be far away.

Aragorn grabbed the wooden railing, letting the night breeze blow his dark hair away from his face. A smile graced his lips and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the Great River. He felt alive. And he felt strong.

-:-

The wind blew wayward strands of hair into his face, but Legolas paid them no mind. Gimli gazed sadly at his friend. Ever since they had departed, the elf had stood quietly, leaning against the railing around the deck, his eyes glued to the dark water. He had yet to take any food or drink, or to get at least an hour of sleep, and every time the dwarf had tried to talk to him, Legolas had given nothing more than a one-word reply.

Some years ago Aragorn had tried to explain to him what the Sea-longing meant to the elves. The man had said that once awoken, it would make the elf's heart ache with a desire to sail west and rejoin his kin in Valinor. Nothing in Middle-earth could bring true joy and solace any longer – neither the trees, nor the birds or stars. All beauty and happiness Middle-earth could offer seemed dull in comparison to the promise of what was there, beyond the Sea, at the place where all elves would find their final home. These feelings had been awoken in Legolas once he heard the cry of the gulls and even though the elf had fought them well and intended to delay his departure for many years yet, his heart would never again be whole until he sailed.

A gull flew above the ship and Gimli fought the urge to grab a stone and chase it away. And still Legolas stood there, staring at the water and listening to the cursed birds' song, instead of pressing his hands against his pointed ears and closing his eyes, as any sensible elf would do. "Legolas," the dwarf started hesitantly. "Perhaps you would feel better if you went under the deck. The cabins are comfortable and you can find rest there. Some sleep will do you good."

Legolas did not even look at him. "I am well here," he replied. It was perhaps the longest answer the dwarf had heard from him for some time now.

"No, you are not well here, you stubborn, dimwitted, reckless dolt!" This finally got the elf's attention and he threw Gimli a genuinely confused look. The dwarf continued, his voice just as angry. "You may see it fit to torture yourself with your Sea, and your gulls and everything, but it does neither you, nor your friends, any good!"

"The Sea…" Legolas repeated slowly, the confusion in his features only increasing. "The Sea," he muttered once again, his eyes clearing. "Oh Gimli, you think it is the Sea-longing that bothers me? _How_ can you think that?"

Gimli froze, now his turn to be confused. And when the truth dawned on him, his heart was torn between relief and newfound worry. Slowly, he approached his friend and patted him on the knee.

"You worry needlessly laddie. Aragorn will be well. We are going to save him. Have you so little faith in us?"

"How do you know he will be well?" Legolas turned blazing eyes at him. "We do not even know if we are going in the right direction! Umbar was only a guess, a shot in the dark! He could be anywhere! How can you know for certain that we will ever find him?"

"If you have so little faith in us, have faith in _him_. Our friend is too stubborn to give up so easily. By the time we reach him, he may not even need our help. He will not go down without a fight, of that I am certain."

"If he goes down _with_ a fight, it is of little comfort to me," Legolas said tensely. "How do we know that- that they still need him alive?" he choked. "We know nothing of their intentions!"

"No, we do not," Gimli agreed. "What we _do _know is that there are long days and hard battles ahead of us, and you will be of little use to Aragorn and Faramir if we arrive and you collapse from exhaustion. You need to eat and sleep."

Legolas closed his eyes tightly shut, his fingers clutching angrily the wooden fence. A single droplet of moisture shone on his dark eyelashes, but never fell down. "Food and sleep is not what I need," he said bitterly, but then his voice softened and he opened his eyes, fixing his friend with an intense glare. "We must find them, Gimli, and soon. I do not know how, and I do not know where they, but we must find them. Time is running short, I can feel it." He sighed and sat on the deck, his hands resting on his knees. "What am I saying? We do not even know if they still live."

"What does your heart tell you?" Gimli asked softly.

"I know not. It only tells me that I am terrified," Legolas admitted.

"We have been in more dire predicaments than this, and we have always prevailed," the dwarf said with conviction. "We stand together, and we are strong. We will not let our friends fall. We will walk until the end of the world and beyond to find them if need be, just like they would have done if our places were reversed."

Gimli reached forward and stretched out his hand. Legolas grabbed it and squeezed tightly, so tightly that it hurt, but the dwarf did not say a word. After a while, Legolas's death grip slackened and the elf's eyes cleared.

"Thank you for showing me the way, my friend, when I had given in to despair," he said with a soft smile. "Would you do just one more thing for me? Would you show me the way to the kitchens?"

Gimli's heart sang and for the first time in days and he allowed joyous laughter to break from his lips.

-:-

Aragorn's gaze moved once again to the glowing elven braid tied around his wrist. "I am coming, my friend," he whispered. "I will not let them take you any closer to the Sea that torments you so."

The man was hopeful now. He knew how to get up on the deck and he had seen that the shore would not be too hard to reach. All he needed to do now was find and free the others.

With a last glance at the river, Aragorn walked back to the stairway and slowly descended below deck.

-:-

Captain Galaron entered the Great Hall and hurried towards the dais. The King's throne was empty, as it had been for so many years before Elessar's return, but the Steward's was not. Queen Arwen sat there, with the little Princess in her arms. Once they had found out that the boys were missing, it was clear that the Queen and her daughter were the only ones of the initial targets who had not fallen prey again, and they had to be protected at all times, at all costs. He could hear her conversing softly with the guards surrounding her. She was instructing them to send word to her brothers in Rivendell, and soon a young man departed to carry out the errand.

The Queen raised her eyes as the Captain approached. "Any news?" she asked, and he had to admire her composure. She had been shattered when they had discovered the boys' disappearance, but she had quickly understood that the whole realm depended on her, and the time for grief and panic was not now.

The man bowed his head respectfully. "We found something, Your Majesty. I… well, I believe it is addressed to you."

He handed her the envelope and winced when her composure momentarily melted away when she beheld the word "_Nana_" written on top. The Queen opened the envelope and as she quickly scanned the short letter, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Good news or bad?" Galaron enquired, barely able to suppress his curiosity. Obviously, the Prince had written the letter before being captured, but whether it held any information as to his current whereabouts, it remained to be seen.

"I am not sure myself," Arwen whispered and handed him the letter with a trembling hand.

Galaron started reading and almost dropped the parchment in shock. "They are planning to hide _on the ship_! So they are not captured? But this is good news, surely!"

"And they are about to be all alone in a hostile land if their oafish plan succeeds," Arwen said tensely. "Legolas and Nemirion know nothing of this. We need to send someone after them and get the boys back."

"Then let me go, my lady," Captain Galaron volunteered.

The Queen raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were supposed to stay here and protect me and my daughter?"

"I am," he admitted, "but I can leave my most trusted men with you. My place is there, not here, my lady. I should have done this earlier. I should have gone with Lord Legolas."

"And why might that be?"

The man hesitated. "I know something about these twins and their mother that no one else does. It might be relevant when dealing with them."

The Queen frowned. "You mean to tell me that you have information we may need to fight our enemy, and you have withheld it from us? I would have you speak now!"

"I am not sure if it will be of use in fighting them exactly," the man said. "And whether you know it or not makes no difference. I beg of you, trust me and let me go."

"You tell me to trust you," Arwen said sternly, "and yet you hide something from me and expect me to make a decision based on your word. If you want me to let you go, you must tell me what this is about. Only then will I decide if your place is there or here."

Galaron sighed. "Very well, but it is a delicate matter. I would share it with you only in privacy."

The Queen nodded at the rest of the guards, who quickly walked towards the back of the hall from where they could see her, but could not hear a hushed conversation.

"We have as much privacy as we can afford in these dangerous times," Queen Arwen said. "Speak."

-:-

Aragorn walked down the passageway, wondering where to start his search. If he opened the wrong door, he could lose his hard-earned freedom in the blink of an eye. And then, the decision was taken away from him.

A high-pitched scream made his blood curdle. Without a thought, he rushed in the direction the scream had come from as fast as his unsteady legs could carry him. He pushed the door open and walked into the pits of fell.

The room was on fire. The smoke was so thick it was impossible to breathe and the blazing flames blinded his eyes and scorched his face. But this was not what instilled mute terror into his heart.

"_Ada_! _Ada_, help!"

"Eldarion!" The raw cry of horror tore at his lungs. The child was tied to a post in the middle of the room, surrounded by flames. His clothes were already on fire, and his eyes were wide in pain and fear. Aragorn rushed through the flames, ignoring the agony, trying to reach his son. But as he ran, he tripped in his weakness and fell face-down. He lay there, momentarily stunned, as the cruel fire ate at his skin and the poisonous smoke filled his lungs. Another scream, filled with so much pain and terror and despair, broke through his stupor, and he rose back to his feet, prepared to resume his mad race against time and nature.

But it was too late. The sight that met his eyes burned through him like no fire ever could. For where his son had been only moment ago, now was only a black, scorched corpse.

With a raw cry of anguish, the man rushed forward and took the little body into his shaking arms, but his son's remains turned into ashes and fell through his limp fingers. They were devoured by the flames before they hit the ground.

"Eldarion…" the soft plea left his parched throat. His head was spinning and he could not breathe, and it had nothing to do with the heavy smoke. His son, his little boy, was… gone. "Eldarion… please…"

How would he ever tell Arwen?

"How will you tell me what, Estel?" Her melodious voice made him look up. The flames were gone. She was standing on a green meadow, smiling, their little daughter in her arms."What is it, my love? What do you wish to tell me?"

He tried to speak, but his voice froze and only a weak cough escaped his throat. His eyes filled with tears. He could see worry on her face now, and it tore at his heart.

"I am… so sorry…" he croaked at last and her brows knitted in worry.

"Sorry about what?"

Before he had the chance to reply, an ugly scream made him turn back. Orcs! His hand went instinctively to his belt to draw out his sword, but it was not there. He was unarmed. And there were so many of them, carrying scimitars, axes and crossbows.

One large orc raised a crossbow and pointed an arrow at him. The projectile wheezed past his face, but did not even make a scratch on his skin. He did not have time for relief however as a small gasp from behind made him turn around.

The arrow was stuck in Arwen's chest. She looked down as if in puzzlement at the large red stain spreading across her dress at alarming speed. Then she raised her eyes and met his. _I am sorry_, she mouthed, before her eyes closed, never to open again.

With a cry, he rushed towards her. Little Gilraen was crying in her mother's cold arms, her small face contorted in pain. He reached forward, his arms trembling, but before he could touch them, a large rough hand grabbed his neck and pulled him back. A tall Uruk-hai stood before him with a malicious grin on his face. He raised a heavy, iron-clad foot and brought it crashing down, smashing the baby's head against the stony ground.

Aragorn wished his mind would go numb with pain, so that he could no longer feel anything, but there was no such mercy for him. He reached towards his eyes, wishing to claw them out so that he would never need to face these horrors again, but his arms were restrained. There were rough hands all over him now, pinning him down and stopping his movements. He tried to wriggle free, but the hands only grew in number and strength. And then he felt a fist in his ribs. Another in his abdomen, his head, his chest, everywhere. Fists, iron boots, stones, clubs, hammers, whips, he could feel them breaking his skin, his flesh, his bones…

"Stop," he begged weakly. "Stop…"

And, to his shock, they did. "Stop?" the large Uruk-hai said cheerfully. "If this is what you wish, fine. We have someone else to play with."

Aragorn raised his head, alarmed by his tormentor's words. What he saw made him regret he had ever spoken.

There, chained to a tree, was Legolas. The elf stared defiantly as an orc raised a wicked, multi-thonged whip in front of his eyes. He never flinched as the foul creature struck, leaving angry red welts across his face.

"Stop it, you want me, not him!" Aragorn tried to cry, but they ignored him. Whips, clubs, fists, boots – the orcs did not stop until the elf's clothes were torn and his body was covered with bruises, welts and open wounds of every possible colour. Legolas's body was convulsing in pain and his breathing was ragged, but not a single cry escaped his lips.

Aragorn's throat was raw from screaming and new bruises formed on his arms and legs from trying to fight the orcs holding him down. Very soon his captors grew tired of listening to him and stuffed a filthy old rag into his mouth, gagging him.

The Uruk-hai that had spoken walked in front of Legolas now, eyeing the bruised face in distaste. "So pretty, even in pain," he muttered in disgust and raised a hand, fingering one of the slender golden braids framing the elf's face. To Aragorn's horror, the foul creature unsheathed a dagger and with a single stroke severed the braid and threw it into the dust.

The man's heart filled with anger as he looked at the discarded braid on the ground. Mercifully, one of his arms was free now and he reached forward, gently holding the braid. None of the orcs stopped him as he tied it as a bracelet around his other wrist.

But their captors were not done with Legolas. Their blows fell, harder and fiercer, and soon the stoic elf could no longer hold back the screams. Aragorn's eyes filled with tears and he could no longer watch. Instead, his gaze focused on his golden bracelet, shining softly with the light of the Firstborn.

And then, the light went out.

-:-

Legolas shot up in his cot, breathing heavily. Not pausing to change out of his bedclothes, or even to put on shoes, he rushed to the deck.

Sunrise was still hours away. The stars were twinkling merrily above him, seemingly unaware of all the turmoil below. The elf's keen eyes quickly scanned the deck, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that Captain Nemirion was awake. The man nodded when he saw Legolas and invited the elf to join him.

"Is there no way we can go any faster?" The elf asked before even uttering a greeting.

The Captain seemed taken aback, but quickly hid his surprise. "We are going as fast as the winds allow it, my lord."

"This is not enough," said Legolas through gritted teeth. "Can we not use oarsmen as well?"

The man shook his head. "The ship is equipped for oarsmen, but it is hard work and we use them only when necessary."

"I fail to see at what time it could be more necessary."

"You are right, my lord, but we have taken a minimal crew. The men are needed to work on the sails, and they need to work in shifts so that we can travel day and night. I have no crew to spare. Besides, I assure you that our speed is good, especially now that we are going downstream."

"The Corsair ship bearing your King is also going downstream, in case you have failed to observe," said Legolas tersely. "And I would not put it past the Corsairs to use slave oarsmen. They are way ahead of us, and increasing the distance by the minute!"

"I understand your anxiety, Lord Legolas, but as I said, I have no one to spare."

"You can spare me," Legolas said. "I will row, and I need no one to take my shift. Gimli will agree to help, and I am sure you will find another man or two."

"This will make a little difference," the Captain argued. "It will make our arrival at our destination no more than a few hours sooner."

"This makes a huge difference. The King cannot wait a few hours more than necessary. He cannot wait a moment more than necessary," the elf said determinedly.

"I understand," the Captains said at last. "But your urgency surprises me, my lord. Before you went to bed, you were not even certain if the King was headed towards Umbar. We did not even know if we were sailing in the right direction."

"Well, now we know," Legolas said softly, with great distress in his voice. "They are ahead of us. And he needs us, before it is too late."

-:-

They were all dead. All. Dead. All was darkness around him. He begged for madness to take him, so that he would no longer need to remember that he had ever lived. That he had ever loved.

Gentle hands were around him, holding him and brushing the sweat from his forehead. This confused him. Who would be gentle with him now that everyone who cared about him was dead?

"Your Majesty?" a worried voice drifted inside his mind. "My King? Can you not hear us?"

He tried to move feebly and the grip around him tightened. "You are safe, your Majesty. It is only us, Frea and my brother Algar."

Frea… Algar… those names sounded strangely familiar, but he could not remember from where. "Who…?" he whispered weakly.

"Do you not remember? Your son was attacked by a snake. My brother saved him, but unfortunately the snake bit you before he could intervene. You are in my hut now. I am a healer. You were taken by a grave fever after the bite, but I have battled for your life long and hard. Come back from the darkness!"

Memories were slowly coming back to him, as was a new surge of hope. Could all he had seen be just a vision of a feverish mind? "Eldarion?"

"Your son is well, my liege. The snake did not bite him. He was sent back to Minas Tirith. You were left in my hut as you were too weak to travel."

Finally, Aragorn ventured opening his eyes. Two familiar faces hovered over him, looking at him in concern. And then he remembered all – the snake, the attack, his fear for Eldarion and how Algar had saved his life. His must have woken up from his fever dreams at least once for he remembered the girl as well. Strange, he though he remembered them with red, not brown hair, but that had to be his addled brain playing tricks on him.

A wave of such immense relief washed over him that he felt weak. "Thank you," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. "Thank you so much."

Frea looked up to meet Jarl's gaze as the King went slack in her arms. "I still do not understand how he escaped his chains," she said.

"It matters not," said the Corsair. "What matters is that the drug is affecting him. We were fortunate that he ate all the food before leaving the cabin. His hallucinations are strong and vivid and his mind is very weakened and susceptible to whatever seeds we wish to plant inside it. He is all yours now. You have to play your cards well."

"We will," Frea said with conviction. "Oh yes, we will."

-:-

The ship set anchor and the plank was lowered. Frea felt her throat go dry. So many had come to greet them! A huge crowd of Corsairs had gathered on the bay, watching them expectantly. There was a narrow path amidst the throng of men, left for her and her brother to walk. At the end she could see Captain Gulbrand and her mother by his side.

The twins exchanged a glance and walked forward. Their footsteps were quicker than necessary, eager to get this over with. "Mother," Algar said softly, so that only his mother and the Captain would hear. "Our plan went wrong. We have only the King and Faramir."

Tyra nodded slowly, her face expressionless. "This is good enough. We can work with that. Come with us to the mansion, you will tell us all there."

The twins followed in silence, exchanging uncertain glances. Their mother had appeared to accept the news easily enough, but they knew she would never show anger or worry or disappointment in public.

Once they were inside the great hall, Captain Gulbrand invited everyone to take a seat and nodded at the twins to speak. Frea started, omitting nothing, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

At the end, she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Captain Gulbrand was not displeased; if anything, he appeared pleasantly surprised. He had never believed in their success it seemed, and now he was glad they at least had the King.

Her mother was a different story. Tyra's face was a stone mask, not giving away any reaction. Whether she was happy or disappointed, it was impossible to say, and Frea waited for her to speak with her heart in her throat.

"Frea, my darling, it pains me to see your beautiful hair like this," Tyra said at length. "Come with me , child! A few hours ago I prepared a mixture of my plant with water and lemon juice. The dye should be released by now. I can make your hair red and lovely again."

This was the last thing Frea wanted to hear. She knew this had nothing to do with her hair. Her mother wanted to speak with her in private, and this could mean nothing good. She forced herself to smile and followed her mother outside.

"The shade will be a bit darker than your natural red," Tyra blabbered cheerfully as they left the hall, "but it should still be beautiful and the contrast should not be too stark once your roots start showing." Once they had left the others out of earshot, however, Tyra fell silent. Frea tried to take a deep breath, but the air felt heavy with the tension between them.

The two women walked on until they reached the spacious marble bath. Various slaves were working around them, cleaning the floor and bringing water and towels. Frea seated herself on a bench and started applying a salve around her hairline to avoid staining her skin with the dye. When she was done, she wrapped a towel around her shoulders and turned around to look at her mother. The older woman had donned cotton gloves and was holding a basin filled with a green mud-like substance.

"You are displeased with me, mother," Frea said when she could no longer stand the uneasy silence.

"And should I not be?" Tyra asked calmly. She never paused in her movements and continued applying generous layers of mud on her daughter's long hair.

"I apologize for failing you," the young woman said softly. "My mistake was in missing that the elf would need a shorter time to wake from the drug."

"I do not fault you for letting the prisoners escape."

Frea tried to turn around and look at her mother, but Tyra stopped her movement and turned her head forward. "Do not move or you will spread this mess everywhere. These poor slaves will never manage to wash the orange stains out of the marble."

"What do you fault me for, mother?" the girl asked.

Tyra was silent for a moment. "Whom did I tell you to capture?"

Frea sighed. Yes, she had not captured everyone planned, but her mother had already said she did not fault her for that. And why was she the only one invited to this conversation? Why had her mother not asked Algar to join them? He was as involved in this as she was.

"I told you already-"

"Frea, I asked whom I told you to capture to be killed later. Tell me the names."

The girl frowned in confusion. "The King, The Queen, the Prince and Princess, Faramir and his son Elboron," she recited.

"Exactly," Tyra said. "The King, The Queen, the Prince and Princess, Faramir and his son Elboron. No more, no less."

For a moment, Frea did not understand. And then, she knew. "You are angry about Lady Éowyn."

Tyra stopped with her ministrations and moved in front of her daughter, so that the two were face to face. "Have you any idea what it is to be who I am? The men call me a whore, and the women think they are better than me. Everyone sees me as something to be used and discarded. Even Gulbrand, who is so smitten with me for now – he does not trust me and he does not love me.

"Lady Éowyn was the first, and the last, who treated me like a human being who has feelings and deserves respect and dignity. Yes, she gave me money to support us, but what is more, she sat with me for long hours and we talked about my problems, my fears and needs. She is the closest thing to a friend I will ever have. People like her are rare enough, without you going around trying to kill them!"

"I understand," Frea said. "But if we ever want Edric to sit on the Steward's throne, we need to get rid of everyone who has a better claim than he. Lady Éowyn is carrying Faramir's second child. The baby needs to die."

"This is true," Tyra admitted. "But I fail to see how this means you need to hurt Lady Éowyn."

"But mother, until the child is born-"

"Why do you waste so much time reading those healing books of yours," Tyra interrupted sharply, "if you cannot apply the knowledge to practice? There are so many ways to kill an unborn child without harming the mother – tansy, mugwort, wild carrot, rue… should I go on?"

"This is not a common subject in the books of healing," Frea replied dryly. "The healing arts concern themselves with fighting sickness. Few people would describe a child as such. And tell me, mother," she added, a horrid thought suddenly crossing her mind, "how would you know so much about killing unborn children?"

Tyra shrugged and once again went behind her daughter and continued to apply the mixture to her hair. "Your question surprises me, Frea. You are no longer a child. You cannot believe that with my way of living I have been pregnant only twice."

Frea felt as if the world was spinning around her, images of unborn brothers and sisters flashing before her eyes. How many were they? How many siblings had she never known?

"You know very well I could have never taken good care of all the children I was going to bear," her mother said. "The only reason I chose to give birth to Edric was that I hoped I could use him to make Lord Denethor provide for us."

Frea took a slow, deep breath. How close she had been to never knowing Edric! Her young half-brother was a pain in the neck most of the time, but still she loved him dearly and could not imagine her life without him. "And what about us?" she asked, her voice hollow. "What about Algar and me? We are no lord's children. How come we were born? Or did one of your potions fail?"

Her mother pulled at her hair almost painfully. "How dare you, you little fool! You have no idea of what you speak. Your brother and you were my first pregnancy. It never occurred to me to try to get rid of you. I loved you before you were even born, and I never stopped loving you since. At the time I had no idea you would be twins, but had I known, I would have done nothing differently. But it was a struggle to provide for you both. I knew that if I had any more children, there was no way all of them would survive. You think this was easy for me? I loved all of my unborn children, but I loved you and your brother more."

Frea entwined her fingers in her lap, trembling. "Forgive me, mother. You are right of course, I knew not of what I was speaking."

"There is nothing to forgive, child," Tyra said. "I only hope you will learn from my mistakes, so that you would never repeat them."

She collected Frea's hair on top of her head, tied it with a ribbon and wrapped it in a towel. "There. You should go to bed like this and wash your hair on the morrow. Your hair will be shinier and stronger than ever, I promise."

Tyra left her daughter and walked back to her chambers. As she entered, she headed immediately to the nightstand where a pitcher with water stood. The heat in the bathing chambers had made her thirsty, and she poured herself a glass.

As she reached out to leave the pitcher back on the stand, a strange feeling pricked at the back of her neck. Someone was watching her. She was not alone.

She was about to voice her question, when her unexpected guest spoke.

"Tyra."

The woman froze. It could not be. Surely, it was not possible. Slowly, she turned around and stared at an all-too-familiar face.

The glass of water fell from her limp fingers and shattered on the floor.

-:-

Farther north up the Anduin, a ship had set anchor and two travelers were prepared to ride on. Gimli hesitantly patted the horse's flank. He had grown more comfortable with these beasts in the recent years, but still nothing could match the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet.

"There is one thing I need to do before we continue, my friend," Legolas said and took out a leather bag out of his pack. "I have a plan how to proceed once we reach Umbar, but we have roles to play and we need to look the part."

"What is this?" Gimli asked, pointing at the bag.

"Something I took from the treasury before we left. I believe it will help us." He paused and eyed his friend uncertainly.

Gimli wondered at the elf's sudden indecisiveness. "Well, go on then. You have been pushing us all in the past days, and now you tarry!"

A wave of pain crossed Legolas's eyes and the dwarf regretted his words. He knew his friend had been in great distress ever since awaking from a disturbing dream, which was why Legolas's current hesitancy confused him.

"Well, yes, as I said I need to do something," the elf said slowly, as if unsure how to continue. "I need to do something… to your beard."

Gimli took an instinctive step backwards and put a protective hand in front of his face. 'No one touches my beard!' he was about to shout, but reminded himself to be reasonable.

"You wish to… braid my beard in a different style?" he asked tentatively.

Legolas hesitated. "Well, yes, something like that, yes."

"And not… cut it or trim it or anything of the sort?"

"Oh no, no cutting. More like braiding really."

The dwarf sighed. He liked his beard the way it was, but if braiding it in a different way for a few days would somehow help them save Aragorn, he could live with that. There was nothing he would not do for that man. He sat down resignedly. "Go ahead then. And make it quick."

Legolas sat down and opened the bag. Gimli's eyes widened. "Are these…"

"You need them to look your part," the elf replied calmly.

"No, no, no," Gimli said quickly, a tinge of panic in his voice. "I never agreed to this! I will not do that!"

But then he looked up and saw Legolas's face. And behind the pain and worry he saw something else. A tiny, barely visible spark of amusement.

Whether letting Legolas make him look like a fool would in any way help their mission, he did not know. What he _did_ know was that it could, possibly, bring a smile to the elf's face. He looked up, a newfound resolution in his eyes. "Do it."

**TBC**

* * *

_Notes:_

_To be honest, using a metal pin to secure the end of a thin braid, so that the pin is completely hidden in the hair, is a bit impractical. I tried it and it is indeed possible, but there are easier ways and I doubt this is what Legolas is doing, so this is some artistic license on my part._

_The plants mentioned by Tyra were used in the past as abortifacients. However, even though they were reasonably effective, the dose required is highly poisonous and can easily harm, even kill, the woman taking it. Tyra was lucky to survive it so many times (I imagine she doesn't even know of the possible side effects), as were many others, but definitely don't try this at home._

_I was also planning to add a note on the characters' names, but this chapter is overloaded with comments already, so I will leave it for next time. Thanks for reading and reviews will be very welcome!_


	6. All that Glitters

_I am very grateful to everyone who reviewed! It's been a few years since I've started a long story and it is extremely helpful to hear your thoughts on the way. I can't do this without you. _

_By the way, I think one of you forgot to sign in last time and didn't realize she was leaving a guest review. One of my anonymous reviewers sounded as if I was supposed to know who she was, and I do have a very strong suspicion, but wanted to make sure first. So if you didn't get a reply from me, you must have left a guest review. Let me know who you are if you'd like and I'll thank you properly._

* * *

_Last time __**Sandy**__ suggested that this chapter should start with __a summary of the characters' last known whereabouts and who is free/missing/captive__. I think this is a great idea since chapters are getting long, updates are not always fast, and things are getting confusing. So here is a recap in case you need it:_

_Aragorn and Faramir__ – we have last seen both of them held captives on the ship, which has now arrived in Umbar, so presumably they are kept as prisoners by Captain Gulbrand. Arwen and the others do not where exactly they were taken, but guess Umbar because of Gulbrand's involvement._

_Arwen and baby daughter__ – in Minas Tirith, free. Aragorn and Faramir know nothing of their fate and fear they may be prisoners as well._

_Legolas and Gimli __– their ship is anchored a short distance away from Umbar. They are now getting on a horse and riding on. They are both free, but Aragorn believes Legolas is held captive or worse because of the braid (or at least that's what he believed before he took the drug)_

_Eldarion and Elboron__ – both free. We last saw them on the ship, which is now anchored near Umbar. Legolas and Gimli believe the boys are in Minas Tirith because they left before they were discovered missing. Until recently Arwen believed the boys were captive as well, but now has found a note from Eldarion, telling her of his plans so that she wouldn't worry. She is planning to send someone to find them. Again, Aragorn and Faramir are afraid they might be held captive as well._

_Éowyn __– missing. She was last seen in the houses of healing. We learned from Arwen that after some time there, Éowyn had gone out for a walk to get some fresh air, and no one has seen her since. She had not even seen Elboron awake. Arwen, Legolas, and the others believe she is recaptured. Aragorn and Faramir believe she is on the ship / in Umbar with them since she has been with Aragorn when he was taken, and they know nothing of the first rescue._

_And now on to the (very long) chapter!_

* * *

_**Chapter 6: All that Glitters**_

Merewine pulled against his chains, but it was of no use. For the umpteenth time the Rohirric youth cursed his stupidity in letting himself get captured. Three weeks on the road, and all his escape attempts had failed miserably. He had grown accustomed to travelling in close quarters with so many people, loaded on the cart like cattle. Men, women and children from all corners of Middle-earth, with hair pale as rye or brown as a nut, with skin of bronze or cream. Thirty-two of them, stuffed in a single closed cart. No breaks, except for food and water or to add another slave to the collection. After the fifth day, the need to gag at the stench had almost disappeared.

But now they had come to the end of their journey. Merewine watched in horror as the slave master entered the cart and pulled out a chained young woman. Altani, from the strange land of Rhûn, a few years older than him. She would fetch a hefty price, the Corsairs had said.

The young man listened in disgust as the slave trader praised the woman's qualities. A multitude of voices, shouting offers, fought for dominance for a while until a price was called that no one else could surpass. And then, Altani was sold. Like a cow. Like a bag of rice. Like a golden brooch. Merewine wanted to retch.

His horror only intensified when three men entered the cart and forcefully pulled him out. He blinked a few times against the light that assaulted his eyes. So, this was Umbar. He saw low white stone buildings with circular domes, high watchtowers and paved streets. A sturdy fortress guarded the city from attacks from the sea and a lighthouse stood high above everything to guide the ships home. No greenery, apart from a few lonely palm trees. Many ships with dark sails were anchored at the bay and among them were smaller fisher boats. And indeed, some distance away, he could see the fish market. Colourful tents to protect the traders from the harsh sun, and a multitude of fish, the likes of which he had never seen before, were put on display. But now he was in a different kind of market.

"Five golden coins!" A middle-aged Corsair yelled as soon as Merewine stepped on the platform.

"Five?" the slaver spat. "You must be jesting! Look at these muscles!" He raised Merewine's arm despite the young man's struggles. "And the lad has all his teeth too!" He tried to open the Rohirric captive's mouth to prove his point and was awarded by a fierce bite. The slaver slapped him forcefully. "And a spirited one too!"

"Hardly a desirable quality in a slave," an old woman said wisely.

"Eight!" called a man with a long, white beard.

"Fifteen!" cried an olive-skinned woman, dressed in a long red robe.

"Five hundred golden coins!"

The slaver's eyes widened and Merewine himself looked up in surprise. From the darkness of the cart he had heard what had happened in the market before and knew that the highest price reached today for another slave had been twenty.

The speaker was a young man, perhaps younger than Merewine himself. A white cloth was wrapped around his head to protect him from the harsh sun, and his light-coloured robes were waving in the wind. A hush had fallen over the marketplace after he had spoken and all eyes were turned at him now.

"Did I hear you correctly, my good sir?" the slaver asked, his voice nearly trembling with excitement. "Did you say five hundred?" The young man nodded wordlessly and the grin on the slaver's face looked about to split his face apart. He grabbed Merewine and led the chained man down the platform towards the buyer. The young stranger provided a large, heavy purse. "Count if you would like," he said.

The slaver looked about to do just that, but after a moment of hesitation gave it up. "I would never doubt your noble word, dear sir," he assured the buyer.

Merewine wanted to throw up. To have the word 'noble' thrown in to describe someone buying slaves!

"I have more slaves for sale if you are interested," the Corsair said.

Merewine's new owner shook his head. "I would love to do more business with you, my lord, but I have something else in mind. You are a man of a high social standing here, are you not?" The slaver nodded eagerly. "And you have connections in the highest of places?" Another nod. "I have a favour to ask of you then. If you deliver, my gratitude will be far greater than the price of a slave."

"I am listening," the slaver said eagerly.

"I must take you to my master first," the young man said. "He would wish to discuss this with you himself."

"Your master?" The slaver's demeanour changed in the blink of an eye and all respect drained from his voice. "So you are a s-"

"A sellsword," the youth supplied, before the other man could say 'slave'. "My master hired me to protect him on the journey here and back. But forgive my manners. I am called Andor. I will be happy to serve you, my lord."

The slaver shook Andor's hand, his previous affability returning. "And I am Ivar. I will be pleased to speak with your master. When and where does he wish to meet?"

"As soon as possible, my lord. My master will be very grateful if you could come with me right now. As to where, we are currently staying at "The Golden Fish". We should meet inside our room. My master wishes to deal with this matter discreetly and he wants to avoid unnecessary attention."

"Of course," Ivar said, not truly surprised. Umbar was filled with inns of questionable repute, but "The Golden Fish" was one of the few that offered clean and luxurious rooms for wealthy guests. It made sense that this mysterious master would be staying there. "I still have a few more slaves to sell. Let me talk to my assistants and ask them to finish the business for today, and will come with you right away."

Ivar walked back to the platform and Merewine glared at his new owner. "If you think I am going to serve you or your pig of a master, you are gravely mistaken! Kill me now, before I slit your throat in your sleep!"

"I expect nothing of the sort," Andor said. "Now be quiet, I am trying to think. I will talk more to you later."

Merewine was perplexed by the answer and surprisingly did as he was told. A moment later, Ivar returned. "Let us go, my good sir. I am eager to assist your master in any way I can."

Andor led the way along a network of streets so narrow that a cart could not go through. At long last, they reached a large square. There was a fountain in the middle and a few palm trees were lazily reaching out with their branches towards the water. A high white building was in front of them, with the sign "The Golden Fish" and a little figure of a fish made of solid gold.

They entered and walked up the stairs to the second floor. A large oaken door framed with gold stood before them. Andor knocked. "Your guest is here, Your Highness," he said loudly. "Shall I invite him in?"

Merewine gasped, a multitude of questions overwhelming his mind. Your _Highness_? There was no abundance of royal families in Middle-earth, and he could not imagine any of their members dealing with slavers. A quick look at Ivar's face told him that the Corsair was no less surprised.

An affirmative answer was heard and the trio walked in. As Merewine stepped inside the spacious chambers, his eyes widened. Normally, he would have found the idea of braiding jewels and golden chains in a beard ridiculous, but they somehow suited the being in front of him and made him look majestic and dignified.

"My Lord Ivar," Andor said solemnly. "It is my honour to introduce you to Thorin III Stonehelm, King under the Mountain."

-:-

Eldarion knelt by the Anduin to refill his water skin. They had been walking for hours, and there was still no sign of any human settlement, let alone the large and busy harbour of Umbar.

"This is our last apple pie," he heard Elboron's unhappy voice. "We need to find more food soon."

"We could try to catch some fish," Eldarion suggested as he stood up and turned around. "Or we could try some wild fruits and vegetables."

"I would rather starve than eat vegetables!" Elboron declared passionately. "But these berries here look good!"

He rushed to a bush and knelt down, picking the small, red berries.

"I would not eat these if I were you," a voice behind them said and the two boys jumped.

Eldarion quickly turned around, his hand going around the hilt of a dagger he had grabbed from the armoury before leaving. A tall man was standing before them, looking at them with bright eyes underneath his heavy hood. It concealed most of his features, but the boys could see a long, light chestnut beard.

"And what would two children be doing all alone in the wilderness, with no parent in sight?" the stranger asked.

"We are no children," Eldarion declared. "We are travelling south and the business is our own. If you mean us no harm, we shall not harm you in return."

"If I meant you harm, I would have let you eat those berries," the man said. "All I want is to invite you to have supper with me. Then I will give you enough food for the rest of your journey and you can be on your way."

The boys exchanged a look. "I could use some food," Elboron whispered.

"We cannot trust him," Eldarion whispered back. "What would a lone man be doing so close to Umbar? He has to be a Corsair. And some of these people deal in slave trade. What if he wants to capture and sell us?"

Elboron sighed unhappily. "You are right of course. I suppose it is better to survive the rest of our journey on raw fish, than to end up as slaves."

Eldarion turned back to the stranger and said in a loud, clear voice. "Thank you for your kind offer, but we have decided to decline it. We have a long road ahead of us, and we cannot tarry."

"But my dear boy," the man said with a benign smile. "Whatever gave you the idea that the decision was yours to make?"

-:-

Merewine blinked of few times, not sure if he was dreaming. So this was Thorin, son of Dáin? After Dáin II Ironfoot had fallen at the Battle of Dale, his son had inherited the throne and had done commendable work in rebuilding Erebor and Dale, working together with both King Elessar, and Merewine's own liege, King Éomer. "Never would I have thought that the King under the Mountain would fall so low as to buy slaves!" he spat and Ivar turned around and slapped him.

"Be quiet, you fool! Have you any idea whom you are speaking to?" Ivar looked back at Thorin. "Although I admit that I am surprised as well, Your Highness. I have not heard of the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain dealing with slaves. Not that I find anything wrong with it, mind you! On the contrary, I find it rather progressive."

"One of our oarsmen died of fever on our way south," the dwarven king replied calmly. "I was planning to hire someone to replace him, but then Andor suggested to me that buying a slave was a better long-term investment. We dwarves know the price of gold."

Merewine frowned. The young sellsword had bought him for an unheard of price. How long would it take him to return the investment? But then, he understood. Andor had not paid so much because he placed a high value on him or because he wished to have him at all costs. The young man had offered that price because he had wanted to get the slaver's attention and to be able to lead Ivar here, for whatever reason.

"Yet, you have travelled all the way here for something other than gold I imagine."

"I see you are an intelligent man," the king said. "Tell me something, friend. Do you have the confidence of Captain Gulbrand? Do you have the freedom to speak to him whenever you desire?"

The slaver beamed. "I have the honour to know the Captain very well. We have often done business together and he listens to my word."

"This is very good to hear," the dwarf said. "I am hoping to make your Captain my ally."

"Ally?" Ivar's tone was edged with surprise. "Ally against…?"

"Gondor," Thorin replied. "And, more specifically, this so-called king of theirs."

"You, treacherous snake!" Merewine cried and Ivar turned around and slapped him once again.

"I would advise you to take this one to the whip as soon as you can," Ivar said. "He is not yet broken and might cause trouble before he is taught some manners. But forgive me, my lord, your words surprise me. I believed King Elessar was your friend and ally."

"I believed so too," Thorin said bitterly. "But a few months ago I had a meeting with him and he said and did something that gravely insulted me and my family. You must know that we dwarves are a proud people. Such insolence cannot be tolerated. Then I swore I would make him pay. Elessar does not yet know that I have broken trust with him, which gives me an advantage. I hope that your Captain will agree to aid me against Gondor."

A grin slowly spread across Ivar's face. "Then it would please you to learn that Captain Gulbrand holds Elessar as a prisoner as we speak."

Merewine felt his heart stop beating. This was news to him, and it filled his heart with dread and anger, but he forced himself to listen quietly and learn as much as he could. Perhaps he was bought by this man for a reason. Perhaps he would be given the chance to stop whatever treachery was afoot.

"This is grand news, indeed!" the dwarven king cried. "How was this accomplished? And what does your Captain plan to do with him?"

"How this was accomplished is a long story," Ivar said, seemingly pleased at the other's enthusiasm. "But I can tell you that it is a part of a bigger plan. The Captain is planning to place Edric, his paramour's son, on the Steward's throne, after the King is gone. The boy has some claim, it seems, and now we are working on clearing the way for him. The Steward is kept captive as well."

"If you are working on clearing the way, do you also have their families?" Andor asked. "Their wives and children?"

"Not yet," Ivar admitted. "But we are far from giving up."

"Well, we can help with that!" Thorin said. "Elessar's family trusts me and mine explicitly. I can send my people to Minas Tirith for a visit and no one will suspect them."

"This is very good," Ivar said satisfied. "I am certain Captain Gulbrand will be very grateful for your help."

"And what does your captain plan to do with the King for now?" asked Andor.

"Well, first we need to make him recognize Edric's claim. And after this is done, my Captain plans to cut his head off and put in on a spear before his mansion's gates."

"And how does he plan to… to persuade the King to recognize the boy's claim?" Andor asked and there was a strange tremor in his voice.

To Merewine's horror, Ivar started to chuckle. "Oh, it is quite amusing really," the Corsair said.

"Amusing?" Andor choked.

Ivar could not stop his mad giggles. "Oh, you should see it, I am sure you will enjoy this, my Lord Thorin, after the offence you suffered. The king has practically lost his mind!"

"What- what do you mean?" the young sellsword asked as Merewine felt his heart sink.

"He has been kept on a strong drug for the last few days," the slaver explained cheerfully. "It causes powerful hallucinations and weakens the mind. Edric's brother and sister have him wrapped around their little fingers. He trusts them completely and believes them to be his saviours and protectors. I would not be surprised if at the end they take him by the hand and lead him to the executioner and ask him to put his head on the block, and he complies with a smile on his face and trust in his heart."

Merewine felt tears prick at his eyes and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the grin off Ivar's face with his fist. His heart ached at the thought of what had befallen this noble man. For him Lord Aragorn was much more than King Elessar. He was the Ranger who had fought with them at Helm's Deep, under pouring rain and mounting despair. He was the man who had knelt before a terrified, wide-eyed ten-year-old boy and instructed him in the art of sword fighting. The lesson had saved Merewine's life that night, and many nights since.

"You seem to be doing very well on your own," Thorin said, and Merewine wondered if he had imagined the hard edge that had suddenly appeared in the dwarf's voice. "But I am certain the Captain can use my aid. I ask you to arrange a meeting with your Captain. I will send Andor to meet with him in my stead. As you can imagine, I tend to attract a lot of stares, and I prefer to keep my involvement in this a secret for as long as possible. Take this as an advance payment for your service."

Ivar took the bag with shaking hands. He took out a golden coin and instinctively sank his teeth into the metal to test it. The moment he did it, he seemed to realize that he could offend his benefactor, who had given him no reasons for doubt. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he quickly said. "Please do not think I do not trust you. This habit has become a second nature to me. A man of my profession quickly learns that all that glitters is not gold."

"And yet, a man of your profession never learns that all that is gold does not glitter," Andor said, his voice low and tense.

Ivar looked at him confused, pondering the meaning of the words, but the dwarven king drew the attention back to himself. "When do you believe we can have a meeting?"

"I will go to Captain Gulbrand right away, my lord," the slaver promised. "I am sure he will receive me immediately. He will send someone to lead your man to the mansion whenever he has time for an audience, but I am certain he will make the time once he hears what this is about."

"You have our gratitude," the dwarf said. "Now please hurry. I am very impatient to hear your Captain's views on my proposal.

The slaver bowed low, wished his companions a pleasant day and left the room. As the sound of his footsteps died away, Andor gave out a raw cry, grabbed a wooden chair and threw it against the door. Then he collapsed to his knees, face buried in his hands.

"Hold it together, laddie," the dwarven king said. "I myself wanted nothing more than to wring his neck with my bare hands, but we need to keep this up for a little longer."

Merewine looked from one to the other, his confusion growing by the minute. Andor raised a tear-streaked face and stared at the slave, looking as if he was seeing the man for the first time.

"Forgive me, my friend," he said, jumping back to his feet. "You are a free man now. I only regret we cannot help all the poor souls sharing your fate." He unlocked Merewine's shackles and handed him a glass of water. "I will ask for food and bathing water to be brought to you. Once you are refreshed, we will give you a horse and you should ride up the Anduin until you see a Gondorian ship. Ask for Captain Nemirion. Tell him that Legolas sends you and tell him your story. You can wait on the ship until our return, and sail back to Minas Tirith with us and then ride back to your homeland."

But Merewine had stopped listening some time ago. "Le- Legolas?" he stammered, his throat tight. Pieces of a broken puzzle were coming together in his mind and he felt lightheaded. "You must be Master Gimli then!" He turned wide eyes towards the dwarf whom he had believed to be the King under the Mountain. "My lords, forgive me! I saw you only from afar at Helm's Deep and I could not recognize your faces, but I still remember the hope you inspired in our hearts and everything you did for my people. You are here to rescue Lord Aragorn then?" He felt to his knees, grabbing Legolas's hands and kissing them over and over again. "Bless you, bless you, my lords! I am so relieved you are here."

Legolas pulled him up and gazed sadly at his eyes. "Yes, we are here to help, and the sooner, the better. That filth's words filled my heart with dread. I wish I could rush to that prison right now, but we are in enemy territory and need to be careful."

"Let me help you!" Merewine said eagerly. "I owe Lord Aragorn much more than my life. I would do anything for him."

The elf smiled, his eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you, my friend, but this will be dangerous, and you are still young. This is not your fight. I know you wish to be of help, but we can manage on our own."

"Do not send me away!" the Rohirric man pleaded.

"Let the lad help, Legolas," Gimli said. "My boy, you can in fact be very useful. I admit I am very afraid to let the elf go to that terrible place on his own. I wished to go with him, but even though an elf can pass as a man, a dwarf cannot, and I am bound to attract attention. These wretched twins and a few of the Corsairs have already seen both me and Legolas and will recognize us easily, but if he goes by himself in this disguise, it will be easier for him to blend in and avoid them. But now, you could go with him."

"Gimli, no!" the elf protested, but the dwarf shook his head.

"Hear me out, my friend. In the Corsair's eyes, the lad is our slave now. Having him go with you is not only not suspicious; it is what they would expect. On the contrary, if the boy suddenly disappears, they might wonder and ask questions. And if he goes with you, he can keep an eye on you and also come to me with messages. We have no one else that we can trust."

Legolas sighed in defeat. "Very well, but you must promise to be careful."

"I promise," Merewine said eagerly.

"There is another matter," the elf said. "I asked that piece of thrash about Aragorn's and Faramir's wives and children because I was fishing for information about Éowyn. He claimed that they had none of the other family members, and if they did, he would not have hesitated to brag about it."

"And even if she had been captured later and sent on another ship, she should have arrived here by now," Gimli said thoughtfully. "It looks like they do not have her."

"This is very good of course," said Legolas. "But where is she?"

-:-

Aragorn lay on the hard cot, listening to his heart's mad race. Some time ago he had awoken from another ghastly nightmare, and now he stared at the dark ceiling, wondering what part of what he had seen had been a false vision, and what had truly happened. The images were always so vivid, so real, that most often it was impossible to tell dream from reality. Whether this was an effect of the snake poison, he did not know, but it scared him. His memories were in disarray, and he was not even certain what had happened the day before. But if he could not trust even his own mind, what was he to trust?

He tried to raise a hand and rub his eyes, but even that simple movement proved too much for him and he weakly let it fall back on the cot. Thankfully, Frea and Algar had been with him most of the times he had awoken, and they were always willing to answer his questions and reassure him. Last time Algar had explained that Eldarion had returned to Minas Tirith together with Legolas and a few of the guards, while Aragorn had remained in their hut to recover. Some of the royal guards had stayed as well, but they were now out hunting to replenish their supplies.

To be honest, Aragorn was surprised that Legolas had returned to Minas Tirith, leaving him alone in his present condition. Deep in his heart he was glad – Eldarion must have been terrified after the snake attack and he must have needed a good friend to accompany him back home. If Aragorn had been given the choice, he would have surely asked his friend to go with his son. However, Aragorn was never given a choice in this matter, and he was rather surprised the elf had made this decision on his own. This confused him and as much as he hated to admit it even to himself, in the past few days he had often wished for his friend's company.

But he was not ungrateful. Legolas was not here, and neither were Arwen and Eldarion, but Frea and Algar were good to him. In fact, the twins were wonderful. Algar was a gifted fighter, as he had already proven in his encounter with the snake, and Frea was a skilled healer. They were both so kind, so loyal, so dedicated. So good.

Too good.

Too good to be true.

Aragorn blinked in surprise. He did not know where the thought had come from, but all of a sudden he could see Legolas's face, the elf's eyes intense, warning him of a brother and a sister and their intentions. But as he struggled to remember more, his head spun and he coughed violently in a need to retch.

It was probably a figment of his imagination, he thought, just like so much else. Once again, Aragorn tried to lift his hand and rub at his eyes. Surprisingly, this time he succeeded. But even before he had brought his hand anywhere near his face, he gave out a cry and let it drop back down.

If everything Algar had said was true, then why was Legolas's braid tied around his wrist?

-:-

"This is a very good plan," Captain Gulbrand said. "Yes, I believe it will succeed. And you ask for nothing in return?"

"The King of Gondor dealt a great offence to my master," Legolas said evenly. "To have him fallen from grace and replaced by this boy of yours is the perfect revenge. My employer desires nothing more."

"Very well. Now if you excuse me, I have something else to attend to. We can continue our discussion tomorrow, and I am certain Tyra will also want to join us and hear more on this. Do you wish to return to "The Golden Fish" for the night, or would you require a chamber in my mansion?"

"I will return to the inn," said Legolas. "My master would want to hear the news. But first, there is something else I would ask of you."

"So far you have offered a lot and asked for little," Gulbrand said. "Speak freely."

"You said that you have the King and the Steward. I would like to see them."

Gulbrand frowned. "You doubt my word?"

"Not at all," the elf assured him. "But Ivar told us of the king's condition, and it brought my master great satisfaction to hear that the man who had wronged him had fallen so low. He would be delighted to hear my own account on what I have seen."

"Very well," the Captain agreed. "But you will not be allowed to see the King while he is awake. Algar and Frea have somehow managed to convince him that he is in their hut, recovering from a snake bite, and if he sees a stranger, they would need to explain your presence there. But for some parts of the day he is heavily drugged and kept in a deep, nightmare-filled sleep. It is impossible to wake him while he is in this state, so if this is the case now, there is no problem to visit him and take a look. You have to check first with the guards though."

Legolas briefly met Merewine's gaze. The young man was as pale as he must have been.

_Hold it together, laddie. We need to keep this up for a little longer, _Gimli had said. But Gimli was not here now.

"And what of the Steward?" he forced himself to say.

"We are playing no mind games with him, so you can visit him at any time. For the moment we are keeping him alive to use him as a possible leverage against the King if our current plan fails, but he will also die as soon as we have the signed decree. Tallak will show you to the dungeons."

Legolas and Merewine followed the guard downstairs. Tallak asked them to wait in front of the massive metal door and returned with news. "The King is drugged and sleeping now," he said. "You may see him."

The elf briefly considered overpowering the man, taking his keys and rescuing Aragorn then and there. Unfortunately, he knew he could never leave the building with guards everywhere, and it would also put Faramir in danger. They needed a better plan, and tonight he was only going to gather information. He sincerely hoped that whatever he was going to find would not break his resolve.

They followed Tallak down a dark corridor and stopped by the door at the very end. "Are Algar and Frea inside with him now?" Legolas asked, hoping his fear did not show in the question.

"Oh no, the prisoner is in a deep sleep now, so it would be a waste of time," Tallak replied. "They only go to him shortly before he is expected to awake. And even then they sometimes leave him alone. The fear of waking up alone mixed with the comfort of waking up to their presence will accelerate the breaking of his mind, my friend Jarl says."

_Hold it together, hold it together, hold it together…_

The door opened with a crack and Legolas reached out to the doorframe to steady himself. A few candles cast a sickly glow across the room, but the light was more than enough for his elven eyes to perceive everything. On a cot in the corner lay Aragorn. The man was very pale and drawn and looked as if he had lost weight. His wrist was swollen and a bandage was winded across his lower ribs. His head was weakly turning from side to side, his lips moving as if he was speaking, and his face was twisted into a grimace of distress. But there was something else that stole the elf's breath.

Legolas's hand went instinctively to the side of his head, where his braid had once been. How had it ended up around his friend's wrist? Aragorn's hands were crossed over his stomach and his other hand was clutching at the braid, as if holding to a lifeline. The sight broke the elf's heart.

"As you can see, there are no chains as we are trying to maintain the pretence that he is not a prisoner," Tallak explained matter-of-factly. "And there is no need for them anyway. He is too weak to move. We give him only as much food and water as he needs to survive, and not a bit more. The drug and his blood loss are weakening him even further."

_And once I smash your head against the wall, you will weaken even more yourself, you filth! _Legolas bit his lower lip and took several deep and slow breaths, trying to regain control over himself.

"Legolas!" The tortured cry tore from the sleeping man's lungs and the elf took an instinctive step forward. It was all he could do not to rush to his friend's side. But he could not stop the tears in his eyes or the huge lump in his throat.

A loud gasp from the door made him look around. "Master, I saw someone running!" Merewine cried, looking very agitated. "It is dark and all, but he looked a bit like Lord Faramir! I have seen him once when he came to Edoras. He ran that way!"

Tallak seemed confused, looking from the door and then back to the sleeping prisoner. "Go!" Legolas called at him. "You should investigate this. I will stay here and make sure nothing strange happens."

Once Tallak disappeared, Legolas threw the Rohirric man a look of immense gratitude. The slave would probably be punished once this was discovered to be a false alarm, but Legolas hoped he could use his newfound position to protect him. But for now, the man had granted him a few precious moments with his friend, and he did not plan to lose a single one.

Legolas rushed forward and collapsed on his knees next to the bed. Trembling, he cradled his friend's head in one arm and held the man's cold hands with the other. "Estel! Estel, please wake up, my friend!" he whispered urgently. "You walk in a realm of darkness, but none of it is real! Listen to my voice! Come back to us!"

But Aragorn made no sign to have heard him and the elf felt tears roll down his cheeks. "I know you cannot wake now, dear friend, but please know this – there is nothing to fear. I am here, I am here now. I will not let them hurt you again. I will find a way to get you out if this, no matter what it may cost me, I swear! Do you hear me, Estel? I will not abandon you here!"

No reaction awarded his words and Legolas could no longer suppress a ragged sob.

"My lord!" Merewine called urgently. "He is coming back!"

"I am so sorry, Aragorn," the elf said, seemingly ignoring the man's warning. "I am sorry I cannot take you out of here right now. But we must be patient, my friend, and we must be strong. I will not make you wait for me for long."

"My lord, hurry!"

Legolas bent down and rested his forehead against his friend's hair. "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry! But I will be back soon, I promise!"

"Legolas!" there was panic in Merewine's voice now.

Legolas reached for his knife.

-:-

Pieces of sharp broken glass were spread around her sandaled feet, but Tyra did not seem to notice. All she could do was stare at her unexpected guest, her face pale.

"My lady?" she choked. "How did you come here? And how did you know where to find me?"

Éowyn nodded towards her left, and only then Tyra noticed there was someone else sitting on the bed. "After I was saved from capture and awoke from the drug, I went outside to get some fresh air," the lady said softly. "This is when I met Edric. It was a chance meeting, but I recognized him immediately. For a long time he denied to be who I thought he was, but at the end I persuaded him to take me to you."

"You little fool!" Tyra turned furious eyes at her youngest son. "Have you any idea what you have done?"

"Mother, I have done nothing wrong," the raven-haired boy replied smoothly. "She comes alone and unarmed and gave me her word that she only wishes to talk to you. She poses no threat. I knew the second ship Captain Gulbrand had sent had probably not yet departed, and I thought we might as well take it."

"And she paid you handsomely no doubt?" Tyra said bitterly.

"Well, yes, she did," Edric admitted sheepishly. "But this is irrelevant. I brought her here only because she promised she meant no harm. I would never betray you, and you know it. Trust me, she is no danger to you."

"I know she is no danger to me, you imbecile!"

"Then why-?"

Éowyn smiled sadly. "Edric, your mother is upset because now I have seen everything and know for certain about her and your involvement in this plot. She can never place you on the throne while I still live. She has to either abandon her plan or kill me, or perhaps keep me as a prisoner here forever."

"There is no need to explain everything to him, my lady, it is about time he learned you use this brain of his," Tyra said angrily. "When he was a small child, Lord Denethor would send the best of tutors for him, but it looks like nothing has sunk in."

"Mother, this is not my fault," Edric protested. "Lady Éowyn had already guessed our involvement, and she believed in it, whether she had any proof or not."

"Get out!" Tyra said angrily. "I will talk to you later. And speak no word of this to anyone, do you hear me? Not even to your brother and sister. Come up with some story in case anyone asks why you are not in Minas Tirith. And find the Corsairs who were on that ship and saw the lady. Make certain they keep quiet as well."

When Edric had left, Tyra turned back towards Éowyn. She gazed at the lady's swollen belly in compassion. The baby would not be long in coming now, she could see. Tyra had last given birth sixteen years ago, but she still remembered the last days of pregnancy and knew that for the lady to undertake this journey in her current condition was no small feat.

"You must be tired," Tyra said and reached towards the bowl of grapes on her table. "Please, have some refreshments. I will arrange for more food to be sent to you; you have but to say what you desire."

Éowyn's eyes were hard. "You try to murder me and my child, and now you offer me food?"

Tyra blanched. "Forgive me, my lady. I never wanted any harm to come to you. I never planned to have you involved in this."

Éowyn stared at her in disbelief. "Your plan was to capture my son and husband. In what way am I not involved?"

The older woman's eyes filled with pain. "Why have you come, Lady Éowyn? What were you hoping to achieve?"

"You know why I have come. I came to ask you to release my husband and the King."

"You know I cannot do that."

"You mean to continue with this plan then? You still mean to try to place Edric on the throne?"

"This is the only way for me," Tyra said. "I will never give up."

"I suppose you have to kill me then," Éowyn said evenly and looked the other woman in the eyes.

Tyra started pacing back and forth. "Why are you doing this? Why are you forcing this upon me?"

Éowyn stood up in spite of the strain her heavy belly was putting on her back. "You told me once that my friendship meant a lot to you. You told me my respect for you was worth more than the greatest treasures. Did you mean any of this?"

"Of course I did!" Tyra cried. "I still do."

"You know very well that not a trace of this respect will be left unless you let my husband and the King go in peace. Is that Steward's throne so important for you? More important than a friendship you claim to value?"

Tyra collapsed in a stuffed armchair, burying her head in her hands. When she did not respond, Éowyn continued. "And why would you want the Steward's throne anyway? Is your life lacking in anything without it? Your children are skilled and intelligent; they can easily find good work. And you, you have all this!" The lady gestured around the spacious, luxurious chambers. "I am married to the Steward of Gondor, and my own quarters are more modest than this! What more do you want?"

Tyra looked up, a haunted expression in her eyes. "I have all this, you say," she uttered bitterly. "You see the feather bed I sleep in, you see the silken sheets, the heavy drapes, the jewelry, the rich clothes. You see the large mirror with a frame of solid gold, you see the heavy carpets covering the floor and the stunning tapestries on the walls. You see the slaves that come to bring me food, to bathe me, to massage me and cover me in fragrant oils and perfumes. You see this and you think that it belongs to me. But none of it does."

She looked through the window and stared at the busy city far below. "These rooms, the furniture, the clothes – it all belongs to Gulbrand. I can use them now, but for how long? Sooner or later I will grow old, and perhaps even sooner he will tire of my company and cast me aside, like so many have done before, and then I will be back in the dirt, back to wondering if I would have enough bread to survive the next week. You ask what I want," Tyra turned back towards Éowyn and swept her arm across the room. "I want this. Not all of it perhaps. A half would be enough, maybe even a tenth. But I want it to belong to _me_, not to some man who will use me for a year or two and throw me away afterwards."

For a moment, Éowyn appeared stunned, unsure what to say. "Can you not make this man, Gulbrand, marry you?" she suggested at last. "That way your future would be secured and you would be provided for when you grow older, even if he takes another lover."

Tyra laughed bitterly. "This is not how my relationship with Gulbrand works. He will not marry me, no, and even if he does, it will not stop him from discarding me and sending me away if he sees it fit. No, my lady, my future is not any more secure than that of a slave. Often, I feel like one. I have to be on constant alert, to wear a mask all the time, to make sure I always make Gulbrand happy, because if I do not, I am done for. And no one ever spares a thought about making _me_ happy. I feel as if I am walking on eggshells – one false step and all falls apart. True, I do have some small measure of influence over Gulbrand and his decisions. But I cannot make him do something unless I can persuade him that it is in his best interest. He would never do anything just for my sake. And this is why he must not find out you are here," she added, her voice filled with distress. "I cannot protect you from him. He would wish to either kill you and your child, or torture you in front of the King to make him give in to our demands. No, we need to keep you hidden from him. And I cannot let you go back to Gondor. Ah, my lady, why did you put me in this position?"

"What do you intend to do with me?" Éowyn asked.

"I have no idea," Tyra admitted. "I have no idea at all." She walked towards the door and cracked it open. To her surprise, Edric was outside, leaning on the wall and munching on an apple, not a trace of care on his youthful face."

"You are still here?"

"Of course, Mother, I thought you might have need of me."

"I do," Tyra said, keeping her voice low. "Find four of the Corsairs that already know that lady Éowyn is here and bring them to me."

"Tyra, I am very sorry," Éowyn said softly once the door closed. "I know you must be feeling powerless and insecure and you want to do everything you can to prevent your children from facing the same trials you did. But hurting innocents is not the way to do it. Your men drugged me! Even now I do not know if my child will be born healthy, and the terror of what might be tears my heart apart! And they drugged Lady Arwen's baby! A baby, Tyra!"

"A baby, who will grow up to be like everyone else," the older woman said bitterly. "Innocents you call them, but these children will grow up to be one of _them_. Of all the people who despise me and laugh at me, and are ready to step on me to go on their way."

"Not all people are like that," Éowyn protested. "And certainly not the Queen's children, or mine."

"I have met many men and women in my life," Tyra said. "And all of them have been like this, apart from one. Apart from you."

"You are being unfair," said Éowyn. "The King and Queen you are trying to hurt are two of the kindest people I know, and I am certain they would have treated you well if you had given them the chance. And if you had met Faramir under different circumstances-"

"Do not speak to me of Faramir!" Tyra cried. "I have rarely been so humiliated in my life. As much as I respect you, my lady, you have a poor taste in husbands."

"I have to disagree here," Éowyn replied evenly. "My husband is the greatest man I know."

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Tyra invited the Corsairs in. "Take Lady Éowyn to the guest chambers in the South Wing," she instructed. "Make sure she lacks nothing, but also make sure she is guarded at all times and does not leave her quarters." She approached the men, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. "No word of this must reach Captain Gulbrand or anyone else." She handed each of them a bag of gold to ensure their compliance.

One of the Corsairs grinned. "You expect us to lie to our Captain in exchange for some gold? Surely you must understand that our loyalty is stronger than this."

All the others nodded in eager agreement and Tyra felt a wave of revulsion wash over her, as the implications of the man's words hit her. Éowyn must have understood the hidden meaning as well for her eyes widened and she shook her head in warning, her lips forming a silent 'No'.

Tyra ignored the lady and forced herself to smile. "Very well," she said, fighting the urge to retch. "If you keep quiet about this, I will pay you with more than gold."

-:-

Faramir looked up in terror as the door cracked open and tried to stand up. He was sitting on the cold stone floor, his hands and feet chained to the wall. His chains allowed him some movement, so he was able to eat by himself, but he could not fully stand or walk around.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he caught a glimpse of a long white beard in the darkness. Many of the guards were cruel to him, and others were indifferent, but a few were actually kind, and Stigr was one of them. The old man had explained that not all of his fellow guards were cruel by nature, but they all hated Gondor with a passion. But most of all they despised King Elessar for the old still remembered, and the young had heard tales of Captain Thorongil and the devastation he had brought upon their shores.

"I am bringing you food, lad," the old man said. "As well as some tidings."

Faramir's eyes brightened. "What news? The King? How does he fare? And my wife? Is she here?"

Stigr shook his head sadly. "You know I am not allowed to tell you anything about this, son. As for the news, I fear you are not going to like it."

The Steward's heart sank. What could be worse than all that had happened lately?

"Captain Gulbrand had a strange visitor an hour ago," Stigr said. "The Captain had a meeting with some of us afterwards and explained what was happening. We were told that the King of the Lonely Mountain was here in Umbar, and had sent an envoy to talk to us. It looks like the King wants to form an alliance with us against Gondor."

"This is nonsense!" Faramir said determinedly. "King Thorin is a good friend and ally. I do not know what your game is, but I will not play along. There is nothing you can say that will make me believe you."

"I am sorry, lad, but this is how things are. The envoy himself is coming to see you as we speak. I wanted to warn you in advance."

The older man left once again, locking the door behind him. Soon, Faramir heard his voice coming from outside. "Tallak! You look winded, my boy! What has happened to you?"

"This blockheaded slave led me on a merry chase," another voice grumbled.

"I did see something, my lord!" another protested. His words were immediately followed by the sound of a forceful slap.

"How dare you speak to your betters like that!" the previous voice cried.

"Enough! He is my slave, and I will punish him for today, that I assure you. But for now, there are more pressing matters."

Faramir froze. That last voice… was he imagining things? Surely this was just his tormented mind playing tricks on him? And yet, the voice had given him warning enough, so that when Legolas walked into his cell, his golden hair and pointed ears hidden underneath a cloth and loose robes masking his slender figure, he did not let his surprise and utter joy show on his face.

"So this is your so-called envoy?" he said instead. "And you expect me to believe that he is here on behalf of the King under the Mountain? I do not know how naïve you believe me to be, but I will not listen to your lies."

"Nobody asks you to listen to anything," Legolas said. "I have not come to speak to the likes of you." He turned towards the guards. "He is in a better condition than the King, I see."

Faramir held his breath. He knew what Legolas was doing. The elf must have felt that he was desperate to hear any news of Aragorn. So the King lived and Legolas had seen him! His heart sank at the knowledge that Aragorn was faring worse than him, but he was grateful that Legolas had told him the truth. He had wanted and needed to know.

"Then why have you come?" he cried angrily. "Only to see me? Am I some strange animal in a cage to be ogled at?"

Legolas sighed. "How you listen to these ramblings all day is beyond me. And why do you keep him alive anyway? My master and I will help you capture his wife and children, and then you will have enough hostages to use against the King."

Faramir's heart soared. Éowyn and Elboron were not captives then! He shot Legolas a grateful look and the elf gave him a small smile in return.

"Whether we keep him alive or not is Captain Gulbrand's decision, not yours!" Stigr said, irritated.

"Peace, my good man!" said Legolas. "Your Captain knows best and I do not presume to give him unwanted advice. I am very pleased with what I have seen today. My visit is over. I need to send my slave back to "The Golden Fish" now; my master will be anxious for news."

"I thought you would be going back there yourself," Tallak said.

"I changed my mind," said Legolas. "I will stay here tonight. I bid you goodnight, Master Stigr. Take good care of your prisoner."

Legolas, Tallak and Merewine walked out of the cell, leaving Faramir and the other guard behind. "If you are staying here, I should better inform the Captain and find you some accommodations. Please, wait for me in the great hall. I will be there shortly," Tallak said and hurried towards the staircase.

Once he was gone, Merewine turned worried eyes at the elf. "Master Gimli will not be pleased to hear you are staying here for the night! This is madness, my lord! The twins and some of the Corsairs have seen you and can recognize you! You have to stay in this place as little as possible."

"Stop with this, 'my lord'," the elf said. "We are all friends here, and there is no one around."

"Legolas," Merewine tried again. "You know it is too dangerous to stay here any longer than necessary. We will come back tomorrow, but until then I beg you, let us return to the inn. Or do you have some plan you may act on tonight?"

"I have no plan," Legolas admitted. "But now that I have seen Aragorn and Faramir, I wish to stay close to them. I cannot go back to the inn, while they are kept here. You will go back to Gimli and tell him the news."

"And have him rip my head off for letting you stay," the young man said unhappily. "You will be of no use to your friends if you stay here. They will never feel that you are close."

"Maybe not," the elf murmured thoughtfully. "But maybe there is something I can do after all."

Merewine paled. "You _are_ planning to do something then?"

Legolas shrugged. "No need to mention this to Gimli," he said, his eyes glittering in the dimly lit passageway. "What he does not know cannot hurt him."

-:-

When Aragorn awoke, he felt somewhat better. He was still alone in the small room, and the images from his troubled dreams were still fresh and vivid in his mind, but this time, amidst all the horrors, he had seen a light, bright and warm and comforting. Did this mean he was recovering from the poison?

The poison… he had no evidence that it was snake poison causing his suffering, apart from Frea's and Algar's words. But could he trust them? He felt suddenly angry at himself for even considering this question. Algar had saved Eldarion's life by risking his own. He had done nothing to deserve such doubt.

Except for one thing. Worry arose in Aragorn's heart anew as he remembered seeing the braid around his wrist. Hoping against hope that it had only been a part of a dream, he raised his arm up. Surprisingly, his strength was enough, and his heartbeat accelerated as he beheld his golden bracelet.

What was it doing around his wrist? Who had cut it off from Legolas's head and how had the elf allowed it? No possible answer came to Aragorn, apart from a terrifying vision. A picture from his nightmare… a large Uruk-hai cutting the braid and throwing it into the dirt, before beating the elf to death. Aragorn's heart hammered in his chest and his breathing turned into choked gasps as he remembered watching how the light in his golden bracelet had gone out.

Frea and Algar had assured him that this had been but a dream, and that Legolas, Arwen and his children were safe in Minas Tirith. But Legolas would not willingly part with his braid, and if it was cut from him by force, how could the elf be well and safe? And if Frea and Algar were wrong about that, could he believe a word they said?

He felt so lost, so confused. What was true and what was a lie? Who was a friend and who – an enemy? Where was he? What was happening to him? Where were his friends and family? Were they well? Were they alive? Aragorn felt tears prick at his eyes. He wanted to shout in the darkness, but there was no one to hear him.

Perhaps he could use the metal pin in the braid to pick the lock and escape? Aragorn frowned. Where had this thought come from? It made no sense at all. Why would he think there would be a metal pin in the braid? And why would he need to pick a lock and escape? He was not a prisoner. Or was he?

Aragorn slowly raised his other hand, planning to touch the braid and examine it more closely. But as both his hands were raised before his face, his eyes widened and he gave out a strangled gasp.

A slender elven braid was tied around each one of his wrists. The two golden bracelets glittered in the dark room, filling his heart with wonder and hope for reasons he could not explain. Nay, not golden. For although they glittered, not all things that glittered were gold.

Some were much more precious.

* * *

**TBC**

_Note: Thorin III Stonehelm became King under the Mountain after his father Dáin was killed during the War of the Ring. Erebor prospered under his rule and became a close ally to Gondor and to Aragorn. I imagine Gimli will have some explaining to do next time he meets him._

_Thanks for reading! Comments will be treasured, as always!_


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